AYS  • ' 
PIONEERS 


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PLAYS  OF 
THE  PIONEERS 

A    BOOK   OF    HISTORICAL 
PAGEANT-PLAYS 

BY 

CONSTANCE  D'ARCY  MACKAY 

author  of 
"patriotic  plays  ant>  pageants"  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS 
OF  HISTORICAL  PAGEANTS 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK    AND    LONDON 

MCMXV 


bOC30O00O0000OtX30O0O0C30OCyWt:«K30OO0C3O0OCWOOOOO0O0OOaC^^ 


PI 


COPYRIGHT.   I9t8.    BY   HARPER  a   BROTHERS 

PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES   OF    AMERICA 

PUBLISHED    APRIL.     19tS 

C-P 


CONTENTS 

ViCE 

Preface    9 

The  PioKeers 13 

The  Fountain  of  Youth 33/^ 

May-Day 55 

The  Vanishing  Race 73 

The  Passing  of  Hiawatha 97 

Dame  Greel  o'  Portland  Town 123 

Costuming  the  Plays 141 

Music 151 

Bibliography .155 

Producing  Outdoor  Pageants  and  Plays      ...  161 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Opening  Scene  of  the  Historical  Pageant 
OF  Portland,  Maine,  Showing  the  Use  of 
Pine-trees  and  Background  Vista  .    .    .      FronHspiece 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain  of  Youth  .     Page      43 

Miriam **       57 

The  Council  Fire  of  **The  Vanishing  Race," 
FROM  THE  Historical  Pageant  of  Sche- 
nectady           '*       79 

Arent  Van  Curler,   from  the   Historical 

Pageant  of  Schenectady "       87 

Hiawatha,  from  the  Historical  Pageant  of 

Schenectady **       99 

Indian  Brave,  from  the  Historical  Pageant 

OF  Schenectady **      113 

Dame  Greel  o*  Portland  Town,  from  the 

Historical  Pageant  of  Portland,  Maine       *'      125 


PREFACE 

All  over  the  country,  in  normal  schools  and 
teachers'  training-schools,  in  colleges,  in  village 
and  city  dramatic  clubs,  and  in  the  junior 
and  senior  years  of  the  high  schools  there  is  a 
growing  development  of  the  festival  spirit — a 
spirit  that  desires  something  that  can  be  given 
easily,  that  has  opportunities  for  simple,  colorful 
costumes  and  dances;  that  does  not  require  as 
strenuous  rehearsing  as  a  long  play,  and  that  is 
dependent  on  its  picturesqueness  rather  than  on 
any  sweeping  dramatic  climax  which  demands 
professional  art  from  amateur  players.  To  fill 
such  needs  this  volume  is  intended.  It  gives  full 
directions  for  music  that  is  readily  obtainable,  and 
for  costumes  and  scene  setting,  as  well  as  a  bibli- 
ography and  notes  on  the  plays. 

Almost  all  the  plays  have  already  been  acted  as 
single  episodes  in  pageants  written  and  staged  by 
the  author.  It  needed  but  Httle  changing  to  make 
them  adaptable  for  all  parts  of  the  country.  They 
deal,  through  history  and  symbol,  with  varying 
aspects  of  the  pioneer  spirit  North,  South,  East, 
West,  whose  totality  of  effort  has  resulted  in  the 
making  of  America. 


PLAYS    OF    THE    PIONEERS 


The  following  play  forms  the  lyric  interlude  in 
the  Pageant  of  Pioneers  now  in  rehearsal  in 
some  of  the  smaller  farming  communities  of  the 
Dakotas  and  other  Western  states.  This  pageant 
is  not  a  pageant  of  a  given  place,  but  of  a  move- 
ment—  the  Pioneer  Movement  —  with  episodes 
adaptable  and  applicable  to  any  locaHty  that  has 
witnessed  the  coming  of  the  pioneers,  their  vicissi- 
tudes, and  final  triumphs. 

The  drama-vitalization  of  the  farming  commu- 
nity— if  it  may  so  be  called — ^which  is  being  fos- 
tered by  the  admirable  Little  Country  Theater  of 
the  North  Dakota  Agricultural  College  and  by 
such  periodicals  as  The  Farmer  s  Wife,  is  bringing 
a  new  note  of  recreation  into  farm  life,  and  fill- 
ing the  play-hours  of  the  community  with  imag- 
inative and  co-operative  pleasure. 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 


THE    PIONEERS 

CHARACTERS : 

The  Pioneer  Man  The  Gray  and  Brown  Ones 

The  Pioneer  Woman  of  the  Forest 

The  Powers  of  the  Forest  Fever 

The  Spirit  of  the  Wilderness       Famine 
The  Powers  of  the  River  Death 

The  Mist  Maidens 

The  scene  is  a  natural  clearing   in   the  primeval 
forest,  with  trees  right,  left,  and  background. 

At  the  sound  of  a  clear  bird  note.  The  Spirit 
OF  THE  Wilderness,  in  flowing  garments  of 
lichen-gray  with  touches  of  earth-brown  and 
leaf-green,  enters  from  left,  and  beckons  forth 
The  Powers  of  the  Forest,  who  enter  from 
left,  looking  like  sylvan  goddesses  in  draperies 
of  leaf-green  and  darker  pine-green.  They 
come  lightly  onto  the  stage  to  Dvorak's  '*  Hu- 
ll^] 


;/; yphR:y,S  jOF  THE   PIONEERS 

mores  que.**  They  dance  swayingly  at  ri^ht,  left, 
and  background,  with  motions  that  suggest  the 
tossing  of  trees.  As  the  "  Humoresque  "  ends. 
The  Spirit  of  the  Wilderness  goes  fleetly  to 
background,  and  beckons  to  The  Powers  of 
THE  River,  who  sweep  in  to  the  bright  strains  of 
the  ''Pizzicato  '*  from  the  ballet  " Sylvia.**  They 
are  clad  in  deep  and  pale  blues,  like  the  deeps 
and  shallows  of  water.  Their  dance  with  The 
Powers  of  the  Forest  expresses  all  the  un- 
trammeled  joy  of  untamed  creatures.  They  in 
turn,  as  their  dance  with  The  Powers  of  the 
Forest  ends,  summon  by  entreating  gestures 
The  Mist  Maidens,  who  dwell  near  the  river 
in  background.  At  their  summons  The  Mist 
Maidens  enter  from  background,  robed  in 
filmy  white,  with  crowns  of  water-lilies  on  their 
hair.  Their  entrance  music  is  MacDoweWs 
''To  a  Water-lily,**  and  they  dance  with  The 
Powers  of  the  Forest  and  The  Powers  of 
the  River  as  lightly  and  weavingly  as  mist 
stealing  across  a  meadow.  Just  as  the  dance 
is  ending  there  is  a  shot  at  left.  For  a  mo- 
ment the  dancers  pause,  as  if  sculptured  in 
stone.  Then  The  Powers  of  the  River  and 
The  Mist  Maidens  flee  to  background  and 
exeunt.  The  Powers  of  the  Forest  exeunt 
right,  and  pause  a  moment  ere  they  disappear^ 

[14] 


THE  PIONEERS 

whi^e  The  Spirit  of  the  Wilderness,  who 

is  the  last  to  go,  pauses  with  them,  and  stands 
for  a  moment  ere  she  exits  with  a  look  of  anger 
graven  on  her  face,  as  if  she  would  see  who 
dared  to  break  into  her  kingdom,  A  few  notes 
of  menace  and  foreboding  are  sounded  as  she 
withdraws. 

At  the  edge  of  the  woods,  left,  down  stage. 
The  Pioneer  Man  andTuE  Pioneer  Woman 
enter,  wearing  Puritan  garb,  the  man  in  black, 
with  a  black  cloak,  the  woman  in  deep,  bright 
blue,  with  a  blue  cloak  and  a  white  cap  and 
kerchief.  Her  dress  is  splotched  with  mud  and 
torn  with  briers.  The  man  carries  a  pack  and 
gun.  The  woman  carries  a  bundle.  Both  The 
Pioneer  Man  and  The  Pioneer  Woman  are 
young  and  fearless-looking.  As  they  step  out 
of  the  woods  two  Indian  arrows  fly  through  the 
air  from  left.  The  Woman  draws  closer  to  her 
husband.  They  pause  a  moment,  arrested  in 
their  progress,  tense,  expectant.  The  Pioneer 
Man  with  his  hand  on  his  gun.  The  Pioneer 
Woman  controlled  and  quiet,  though  with  a  look 
of  terror  on  her  face.  There  is  no  further  sign 
of  hostility,  and  with  the  aspect  of  those  who 
draw  a  deep  breath  of  relief.  The  Pioneer 
Man  and  The  Pioneer  Woman  come  slowly 
forward. 

dsl 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

The  Pioneer  Man 

With  sun  to  scorch,  and  rain  to  chill, 

The  Powers  of  the  Forest, 

The  Powers  of  the  River 

Menace  us  always: 

The  Unseen  Terror  lurketh  around  us. 

[Indicates  arrows.] 
Wilt  thou  go  forward? 

The  Pioneer  Woman 

Where  thou  goest,  I  go. 

The  rains  shall  not  daunt  me, 

Nor  the  heat  slay  me. 

I  fare  where  thou  farest. 

That  which  we  face  we  shall  conquer  at  length. 

[They  set  resolutely  forward.  But 
at  their  first  step  The  Spirit  of  the 
Wilderness,  followed  hy  all  The 
Powers  of  the  Forest,  suddenly 
hears  down  upon  them,  to  the  music 
of  "The  Hall  of  the  Mountain 
King,*'  from  the  " Peer  Gynt**  Suite, 
by  Grieg.  The  Powers  of  the 
Forest  are  no  longer  light  and  play- 
[i6] 


THE   PIONEERS 

Jul  in  their  aspect.  They  sweep  for- 
wardy  with  tree-branches,  oak,  maple, 
and  pine  in  their  hands  with  which 
they  lash  out  at  The  Pioneer  and 
his  wife.  Among  The  Powers  of 
THE  Forest  now  are  seen  two  gray- 
ish'hlack  and  two  brownish-clad  fig- 
ures, with  animal  heads,  pricked  ears, 
and  bright  eyes.  These  also  fly  at 
the  man  and  his  wife  as  if  they 
would  tear  them  to  bits.  Their  ges- 
tures are  ravening,  like  the  claw  of 
the  panther-cat.  The  Pioneer  Man 
puts  his  arm  up  to  shield  his  face, 
pressing  forward  a  step  at  a  time, 
his  wife  behind  him.] 

The  Pioneer  Man 


The  Powers  of  the  Forest 
Battle  against  us! 


The  Pioneer  Woman 


Thine  be  the  victory! 
We  shall  press  forward! 


[The  Spirit  of  the  Wilderness 
and  The  Powers  of  the  Forest 
[17] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

give  way  before  The  Pioneer,  and 
exeunt  with  dark  looks,  right.  As 
they  gOy  up  from  the  background 
stream  The  Powers  of  the 
River,  still  to  the  skirl  of  "The 
Hall  of  the  Mountain  King,*'  with 
white  scarfs  in  their  hands  repre^ 
senting  foam.  They  lash  out  at 
The  Pioneer  Man  and  his  wife 
menacingly.] 

The  Pioneer  Man 

The  Powers  of  the  River 
Battle  against  us! 

The  Pioneer  Woman 

Thy  strong  arm  shall  conquer! 
Forward!    I  follow! 

[He  pushes  forward,  and  The 
Powers  of  the  River  give  wayy 
and  exeunt,  background.] 

Now  rest  thee  a  moment. 

[Somewhat  wearily  the  man  follows 
the    woman    to    center   foreground^ 
[.i8] 


THE  PIONEERS 

where  they  sit,  and  The  Pioneer 
Man  kindles  a  fire,  and  swings  a 
kettle  from  out  of  his  pack,  the 
woman  helping  him.] 

The  Pioneer  Man 

How  shall  it  be  with  thee 
Here  in  the  wilderness? 
Thou  who  hast  woven 
Safe  by  the  hearthside, 
Thou  who  hast  culled 
Flowers  from  sweet  gardens 
Sun-warmed  and  sheltered. 
How  will  it  be  with  thee 
Here  in  the  wilderness? 

The  Pioneer  Woman  [bravely] 

I  will  weave  furs  and  fiber  for  clothing, 

Herbs  of  the  fields  I  will  have 

For  my  garden, 

Soothing  and  healing. 

Now  rest  thee,  oh,  rest  thee, 

Here  for  a  moment  where  naught  is  to  fear. 

[The  Pioneer  Man  rests  and  drowses 
by  the  fire,  while  his  wife  rises,  gathers 

2  [19] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

some  herbs  near  by,  and  puts  them 
in  kettle.  Then  she  wanders  farther y 
right y  stooping  and  culling.  As  soon 
as  her  back  is  turned  The  Mist 
Maidens  steal  in  from  background 
to  the  strains  of  '*Jnitra*s  Dance,'* 
from  the  "Peer  Gynt"  Suite,  played 
softly  at  first,  and  then  louder.  They 
weave  a  dance  about  The  Pioneer 
Man,  and  exeunt  toward  background 
as  his  wife  sees  them  and  hurries 
to  foreground.  At  her  touch  on 
his  shoulder  The  Pioneer  Man 
still  drowses,  as  if  overcome  with 
stupor.] 

The  Pioneer  Woman 

The  touch  of  long  fingers, 

Shadowy,  tenuous, 

Boding  of  evil! 

Rouse  thee,  my  husband! 

Mists  from  the  rivers. 

Mists  from  the  swamp-lands, 

Rising  and  stealing 

The  life  from  our  pulses! 

Rouse  thee! 

Oh,  rouse  thee! 

[20] 


THE  PIONEERS 

[From  left,  while  The  Pioneer 
Woman  speaks.  Fever  approaches, 
a  tall  feminine  figure  in  scarlet 
draperies,  with  a  scarlet  veil  hound 
about  her  brows  and  flowing  hair. 
Her  face  is  colorless,  her  eyes  blaTr- 
ingly  bright,  her  lips  deep  carmine. 
She  enters  to  the  second  movement  of 
*'  Anitras  Dance ^^  and  stands  above 
The  Pioneer  Man  with  gestures  of 
mocking  incantation  ^jThe  Pioneer 
Woman  fills  a  cup  from  the  herb  brew 
in  the  kettle  and  presses  it  to  the 
mans  lips.] 

Fever 


Nay,  ere  thou  risest 

Reckon  with  me! 

I  am  the  Fever. 

In  vain  thou  dost  wrestle. 

Poison  my  touch  is. 

Fire  my  caresses. 


[She  bends  over  him  lightly.] 


Thou  shalt  not  escape  me! 
I  am  the  figure 
Bom  of  delirium! 

[ail 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

The  Pioneer  Woman  [agonized] 

Drink,  I  beseech  thee! 
Drink! 

Fever  [tauntingly] 

Put  thy  hot  hand 

To  the  cup  that  she  holdeth. 

[The  Pioneer  Man  takes  the  cup. 
His  hand  shakes  as  he  holds  it.  His 
wife  places  her  hand  over  his  to  steady 
ity  and  guides  the  cup  to  his  lips.] 

The  Pioneer  Woman 

Drink.     I  am  here. 

Do  not  fear. 

I  am  near  thee. 

The  Fever  shall  leave  thee  at  touch  of  these  herbs. 

[As  he  drink Sy  exit  Fever,  right. 
The  Pioneer  Man  closes  his  eyes 
for  a  moment,  then  opens  them,  smil- 
.  ing,  with  renewed  vigor,  and  bends  to 
assist  his  wife  to  rise.  She  looks 
even  more  pale  and  spent  than  he. 
As  he  bends  to  her.  Famine,  clad  in 

[22] 


THE  PIONEERS 

dull  gray,  with  pale  face  and  dark- 
circled  eyes,  enters  from  left  to  the 
opening  bars  of  "  The  Death  of  Ase,* 
from  the  same  suite.] 

Famine 

Fever  shall  leave  thee. 
Yea,  but  thou  reckonest 
Hereafter  with  me. 

[Famine  raises  her  arms  trium-- 
phantly.  The  Pioneer  Man  rises, 
holding  his  wife,  and  strives  to  re- 
pulse Famine.] 

I  am  the  Famine, 

The  breath  of  the  places 

Where  creatures  are  wary 

And  come  not  to  traps. 

I  am  ill-fortune  in  hunting  and  fishing. 

[The  Pioneer  Man  tries  to  raise 
his  gun,  hut  is  too  weak.  His  wife 
droops  by  the  fire,  unable  to  cope  with 
Famine.] 

I  weaken  thy  wrist, 
And  thy  aim  is  unsteady. 
[23] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

[The  Pioneer  Man  leaves  his  wife 
and  faces  Famine  dauntlessly.  She 
gives  way  a  Utiles  hut  still  mocks  him.] 

The  fishes  I  draw 

From  the  pools  and  the  rivers; 

They  come  not  for  all  of  thy  craft  and  thy  patience. 

Drought  is  my  gift  to  thee; 

Rains  that  send  rotting 

The  seed  that  thou  plantest. 

I  am  all  nature  arming  against  thee! 

[Yet  The  Pioneer  Man  presses  for- 
wardy  and  Famine  withdraws,  left,  as 
The  Pioneer  tears  roots  from  the 
ground  and  finds  a  few  berries. 
With  these  he  goes  back  to  his  wife.] 

The  Pioneer  Man 

See,  I  have  brought  thee 

Berries  and  roots. 

Look  up,  and  take  heart! 

We  shall  conquer  the  Famine. 

Eat. 

The  Pioneer  Woman 

Thou  art  starving  thyself  of  thy  portion! 

[24] 


THE  PIONEERS 

The  Pioneer  Man 

Lean  thou  on  me. 

We  still  shall  press  forward. 

[As  the  woman  rises  he  sweeps  to- 
gether their  merchandisey  and  the 
woman  leans  against  him,  supported 
by  his  arm,  as  out  of  the  woods  at  left, 
unseen  by  them,  comes  Death,  a 
sinister  male  figure  all  in  black,  over 
which  a  white  skeleton  is  outlined. 
His  head  is  a  grinning  skeleton  mask.] 

Death  [with  hollow  menace] 

Fool!     In  the  dark, 
In  the  sunlight,  I  follow! 
I  lurk  near  thy  footsteps 
Wherever  thou  goest. 
Reckon  with  me! 

The  Pioneer  Man  [aghast] 
Death! 

[He  holds  his  wife  closer  to  him.] 

Death  [with  power  and  triumph] 
Death! 
Thou  hast  named  me! 

[2Sl 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Thee  I  shall  conquer, 
Quenching  thy  will. 
All  dreams  and  ambitions, 
All  hoping  and  struggle, 
End  as  I  conquer. 

[As  Death  and  The  Pioneer  Man 

grapple,  hand  to  hand,  The  Pioneer 
Woman  falls  to  her  knees.  Three 
times  Death  and  The  Pioneer 
Man  wrestle,  and  the  third  time 
*  Death  is  overcome  and  exits,  left, 

leaving  The  Pioneer  Man  trium- 
phant.] 

The  Pioneer  Woman 

Forward!    Press  forward! 
Death  thou  hast  conquered! 

[As  Death  exits,  right,  down  stage. 
The  Spirit  of  the  Wilderness 

appears  at  right,  up  stage;  hut  a  great 
change  has  taken  place  in  her  de- 
meanor. On  her  wild  hair  rests  a 
crown  of  roses;  over  her  shoulder 
floats  the  purple  cloak  of  victory.  As 
The   Pioneer  Man  and  his  wife 

[261 


THE  PIONEERS 

gaze  at  her  she  approaches  a  step  or 
two,  benignly,  her  hands  outstretched, 
and  holding  a  laurel  wreath.] 

The  Wilderness  Spirit 


Victory!    Victory! 
Thine  at  the  last! 
The  Wilderness  Spirit 
Stand  I  before  thee, 
Tamed  by  thy  courage. 


[As  The  Spirit  of  the  Wilder- 
ness speaks  The  Powers  of  the 
Forest  steal  out  humbly,  and  the 
branches  that  a  little  while  since  were 
used  to  impede  the  progress  of  The 
Pioneer  Man  and  his  wife  are  now 
laid  at  their  feet.  The  brown  and 
gray  creatures  of  the  forest  put  down 
fur,  then  withdraw  warily  and  stand 
back  of  The  Powers  of  the  For- 
est. From  background  come  The 
Powers  of  the  River.  They  bring 
a  bark  bowl  filled  with  water,  which 
they  deposit  at  the  feet  of  The 
Pioneers,  with  supplicating  ges- 
tures.    While  these  are  entering,  The 

[27] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Spirit  of  the  Wilderness  con- 
tinues speaking,  indicating  the  dif- 
ferent groups  as  they  approach.] 

The  Powers  of  the  Forest, 
The  Powers  of  the  River 
Ye  shall  subdue. 
They  shall  be  to  ye 
Fire  for  the  winter, 
Shelter  and  roof-tree. 
Skins  for  thy  covering. 

[Indicates  The  Powers  of  the 
River.] 

And  for  thy  harvests 
Moisture  abundant. 

[Js  The  Pioneer  Man  and  his  wife 
stand  up  stage  for  a  moment  ere  they 
exeunt,  left.  The  Powers  of  the 
Forest  and  The  Powers  of  the 
River  break  into  song  and,  with 
gestures  indicating  their  humbleness 
and  willingness  to  serve,  follow  the 
man  and  his  wife  into  the  forest, 
where  the  sound  of  an  ax  breaking 
through  the  song  indicates  that  The 

[28) 


THE  PIONEERS 

Pioneers    are   beginning   to    build 
their  wilderness  home.] 

Song 

[To  the  ^^ Melody  in  F'*  by  Rubinstein] 

To  thee  be  victory,  oh  Pioneers! 

Danger  encircled  by  day  and  night. 
Here  light  thy  hearth-fire  to  gleam  through  the 
years 

Clear  as  a  beacon  light. 

Powers  of  the  Forest  and  Powers  of  the  River 
Here  shall  obey  thee,  working  thy  will. 

Pine  boughs  that  whisper,  aspens  that  quiver. 
Sing  to  thee,  "Conquer  still!" 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

A  FANTASY 


THE   FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

A   FANTASY 

CHARACTERS: 

The  Guardian  or  the  Fountain       Ponce  de  Leon 

A  Daughter  of  the  Dawn  Silva       )  ^.^  ^^jj^^^^^ 

Other  Daughters  of  the  Dawn       Cordoba  ) 

Place — Florida. 

Time — The  spring  of  1523. 

Scene — A  clearing  in  a  forest  wrought  by  nature y 
not  by  man.  Trees  rights  left,  and  background, 
with  deep  ferns  and  forest  tangle  amidst  the 
tree-trunks.  Moss  and  vines  swing  from  the 
branches  of  the  trees. 

Enter  from  the  right,  to  the  strains  of  Men- 
delssohn s  "Spring  Song,"  the  Daughters  of 
THE  Dawn,  clad  in  Neo-Grecian  robes  of  pale 
and  deep  pink,  the  varying  shades  of  dawn 
color.  They  are  shod  with  pink  sandals.  Their 
hair  falls  about  their  shoulders.  Their  dance 
t33] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

resembles  a  dance  of  the  hours.  As  it  ends  they 
turn  toward  right  with  gestures  of  obeisance^  and 
presently  from  right  enters  The  Guardian  of 
THE  Fountain,  robed  in  white,  with  silver  san- 
dalsy  and  the  Morning  Star  caught  in  her  hair. 
She  holds  aloft,  as  one  would  hold  a  grail,  a 
crystal  cup  in  which  sparkles  water  from  the 
Fountain  of  Youth.  Instantly  she  becomes  the 
center  of  a  dance  of  worship,  to  the  strains  of 
Laches  "  Idyllo."  Throughout  the  dance  she  holds 
the  mystic  cup  within  her  hands,  and  toward  the 
end  of  the  dance  turns  again  to  right,  and  exits, 
followed  by  the  Daughters  of  the  Dawn. 

As  they  exeunt,  from  left  appear  Ponce  de 
Leon,  Silva,  and  Cordoba.  Their  clothing, 
once  splendid,  is  now  worn  and  stained  with 
travel.  Ponce  de  Leon,  in  dull  crimson,  is  a 
man  of  middle  age,  with  noble  bearing  and  a  quest- 
ing look.  Silva,  with  rusty  cuirass  and  dark- 
green  cloak,  is  younger,  and  discouraged-looking. 
Cordoba  is  old  and  rugged,  with  white  hair  and 
the  look  of  a  mariner.  His  costume  is  midnight 
blue.     There  are  huge  gold  rings  in  his  ears. 

Ponce  de  Leon  * 
I  thought  that  I  heard  music!     Twas  a  dream. 

*  The  English  pronunciation  of  the  name  is  used. 

[34J 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

Cordoba 

A  dream  wrought  of  fatigue  and  endless  search: 
I  pray  thee  let  us  rest  us  here  a  little. 
I  followed  thee  from  Spain  to  Porto  Rico, 
Across  strange  seas,  guided  by  unknown  stars, 
But  never  on  such  bitter  quest  as  this. 

Ponce  de  Leon 

To  find  the  Fountain  of  immortal  Youth — 
Ye  call  that  bitter?     All  our  nights  and  days 
Of  weariness  shall  be  a  story  told 
When  once  we  taste  of  it. 

Cordoba 

Oh,  Ponce  de  Leon, 
I  would  that  we  were  back  in  sunny  Spain! 

[Cordoba  and  Silva  sit  on  fallen 
tree-trunk,  left  foreground.  Cordo- 
ba drinks  from  a  leather  flask  and 
'passes  it  to  Silva.  As  these  two  talk 
Ponce  de  Leon  looks  raptly  before 
him.] 

Silva 
And  half  a  league  behind  us  there  lie  men 

3  [35] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Outwearied  in  a  search  for  what  has  proved 
A  hope  like  fool's  fire,  leading  on  and  on. 

Ponce  de  Leon 

So  said  ye  when  I  sought  the  Western  Ind, 
But  this —    Ah,  this!     Dost  thou  remember  it, 
The  golden  day  when  first  we  heard  of  it? 
And  an  old  mariner  with  sea-bright  eyes 
And  bronzed  face  all  scarred  with  ocean  storms 
Whispered  that  in  the  new  Americas 
Bubbled  a  fountain  crystal  clear,  whose  taste 
Was  nectar  of  the  gods:    and,  like  the  gods. 
Whoso  should  taste  of  it  should  ne'er  grow  old. 
And  is  it  strange  that  this,  the  youngest  land, 
Should  hold  Youth's  Fountain?     Count  us  for- 
tunate 
That  we  are  bound  on  such  a  mighty  quest. 

Cordoba  [with  utter  weariness] 

Fortunate ! 

Ponce  de  Leon 

Have  not  all  things  smiled  on  us? 
Did  we  not  find  this  land  on  Easter  day? 
A  blessed  omen!    And  I  christened  it 
Florida.     Flower  of  Easter! 
[36] 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

SiLVA  [darkly] 

What  of  thorns? 
Hunger,  fatigue,  stark  thirst,  and  aching  limbs  ? 

Ponce  de  Leon 

Why,  look  ye,  if  I  find  that  fountain-head 
There'll  be  no  age,  nor  any  grief,  nor  pain; 
Only  immortal  Youth  for  all  the  world. 
Others  have  sought  for  riches  or  for  lands. 
Or  honor  for  their  sovereigns,  rank,  and  fame. 
But  I  seek  Youth,  the  lodestar  of  mankind — 
Yea,  what  are  all  discoveries  to  this: — 
To  keep  the  thrill  and  rapture  of  life's  dawn, 
Feet  that  outrun  the  winds,  adventurous  hearts 
All  unencompassed  by  the  chill  of  age; 
To  know  this  flesh  will  ne'er  be  withered. 
Nor  this  strong  arm  weakened  by  passing  years. 
Go  back  to  where  the  camp-fire  shines  for  ye. 
For  this  is  my  adventure.     Leave  me  here. 
I  will  rejoin  ye  later  in  the  day. 
Farewell. 

Cordoba  [to  Silva,  who  is  half  reluctant] 

Come,  Silva,  let  us  leave  him  here. 

[Ponce   de   Leon  stands  with  his 
back  to  thenty  searching  with  eagle 

[37] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

glance  the  country  before  him.  Cor- 
doba and  SiLVA,  with  a  backward 
glance  or  two,  exeunt,  left.  As 
soon  as  Ponce  de  Leon  feels  that 
they  are  gone  he  strides  abruptly  for- 
ward. As  he  nears  the  spot  where 
the  fountain  is  concealed  the  Daugh- 
ters OF  THE  Dawn,  led  by  one  of 
their  number,  suddenly  appear,  to  bar 
his  passage.  For  an  instant,  as  he 
were  dreaming,  Ponce  de  Leon 
brushes  his  hand  across  his  eyes.] 

A  Daughter  of  the  Dawn 
Beware,  rash  mortal.     Do  not  touch  this  spot. 

Ponce  de  Leon 
Who  are  ye,  maidens? 

A  Daughter  of  the  Dawn 

Daughters  of  the  Dawn. 

Ponce  de  Leon  [gladly] 

Then  by  your  presence  I  have  found  the  place 
That  holds  the  Fountain  of  immortal  Youth. 
[38] 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

[Js  he  speaks  The  Guardian  of 
THE  Fountain,  this  time  without  the 
crystal  cupy  appears  before  him, 
beautiful  and  imperious.] 

And  who  art  thou? 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 

The  guard  perpetual. 
The  spirit  of  the  Fountain  called  Youth. 

Ponce  de  Leon 

Thine  eyes  hold  glory  that  doth  dazzle  me! 
Give  me  to  drink. 

[As  he  speaks  the  Daughters  of 
THE  Dawn  withdraw  a  little,  so  that 
what  ensues  lies  between  Ponce  de 
Leon  and  The  Guardian  of  the 
Fountain.] 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 

Wilt  thou  snatch  Youth  from  me? 
For  if  this  spring  is  touched  by  mortal  Hps 
It  vanisheth.     No  more,  for  all  the  world. 
Shall  there  be  Youth. 

[39] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Ponce  de  Leon 
And  U 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 

Adventurer, 
Thou  shalt  have  Youth.     But  think  at  what  a  cost 
Thou,  out  of  all  the  world,  shalt  Youth  possess! 

Ponce  de  Leon  [unheeding] 

Youth  everlasting!     Now  at  last  I  win! 
I,  Ponce  de  Leon,  whom  men  called  a  fool 
For  following  lost  hopes!     I  win!     I  win! 
Yea,  in  a  moment  I  shall  hold  the  cup 
Within  these  hands  and  quaff  supernal  fire! 
Guard  of  the  Fountain — 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 

Wilt  thou  rob  the  world  ? 
The  sweetness  and  the  promise  of  the  earth? 
I  pray  tl)ee  wait.     Shall  all  the  world  lose  youth 
Because  one  man  would  be  for  ever  young? 
Adventurer,  bethink  thee  what  thou  dost! 

Ponce  de  Leon 

Have  I  crossed  unknown  seas,  and  have  I  borne 
Despair  and  thirst  and  weariness  for  this — 
[40] 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

To  hear  the  Guardian  of  the  Fount  itself 
Cry,  "Wait  a  little!" 

[fFith  greatening  passion,] 

Saints !    Have  I  not  waited 
And  heard  the  tread  of  the  invincible  years 
Like  armies  passing  me?     I  will  be  young, 
Cost  what  it  may!     Bring  thou  the  cup  to  me. 
I  am  the  conqueror!     I  alone  had  faith! 
And  for  my  faith  the  cup  is  my  reward! 
Give  me  to  drink,  or  else  by  this  my  sword 
I  wrest  it  from  thee.     Wilt  thou  serve  me  here. 
Or  must  I  snatch  it  from  the  fount  itself? 

[As  Ponce  de  Leon  has  been  speak- 
ing he  has  taken  a  step  or  two  forward. 
His  words  have  drawn  the  Daugh- 
ters OF  THE  Dawn  forward  from 
sheer  terror.  They  stand  lined  at 
each  side  of  The  Guardian  of  the 
Fountain,  who  still  bars  Ponce  de 
Leon's  way.  At  his  last  words  the 
Daughters  of  the  Dawn  shrink 
as  from  a  blow,] 

The    Daughters    of   the    Dawn    [with   a  cry^ 

poignantly] 
Ail 

[41] 


PLAYS  OF  THE   PIONEERS 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 

Inexorably  my  fate  compels 
That  I  must  serve.     I  bid  thee  wait. 

[Exeunt  The  Guardian  of  the 
Fountain  and  the  Daughters  of 
THE  Dawn,  right.  The  first  part  of 
the  '* Idyllo''  is  played  very  faintly 
and  very  slowly,  as  if  all  the  rapture 
had  gone  from  it.  Ponce  de  Leon, 
left  alone,  speaks  triumphantly.] 

Ponce  de  Leon 

A  moment,  and  I  am  for  ever  young! 

A  Queen  of  Egypt  melted  pearls  in  wine. 

That  was  a  drink  for  slaves  compared  to  this! 

[Re-enter  The  Guardian  of  the 
Fountain  and  the  Daughters  of 
THE  Dawn.  The  music  ceases.  The 
Daughters  of  the  Dawn  stand  at 
the  edge  of  the  forest.  The  Guar- 
dian OF  the  Fountain  approaches 
Ponce  de  Leon,  the  crystal  cup 
held  straight  before  her.  She  speaks 
with  icy  scorn.] 

[42] 


Copyright,  1913,  by  Jessie  Tarbox  Reals 

THE  GUARDIAN  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 
The  GuaiUjian  of  the  Fountain 


Look,  thou,  adventurer!     Behold  the  cup! 
Drink  to  the  doom  of  youth!    To  glory  dead! 
Drink  to  the  ending  of  all  loveliness! 
Drink  to  the  quenching  of  that  sacred  fire 
By  which  the  world  has  warmed  its  dying  hopes 
And  quickened  them  to  life  again.     Drink  deep! 

[She  gives  him  the  cup.  He  takes  it 
exultantly,  holding  it  upward  to  the 
light  as  one  who  can  scarcely  gaze 
his  fill.  The  Guardian  of  the 
Fountain  watches  him,  statue-like, 
but  the  Daughters  of  the  Dawn 
are  a  frieze  of  alternating  hope  and 
despair.  Ponce  de  Leon  starts  to 
put  the  cup  to  his  lips,  then  hesitates. \ 

Ponce  de  Leon  [to  himself] 

Something  ...  I  know  not  what . . .  would  stay  my 
hand. 

[Once  more  he  raises  the  cup  sunward, 
then  brings  it  toward  his  lips  with  an 
ecstatic  gesture.] 

This,  to  my  triumph! 

[451 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

[He  is  about  to  drink  when  very 
faintly,  like  a  magic  whisper,  the 
notes  of  the  ^* Spring  Song"  steal  on 
the  air.  He  lowers  his  hand  as  if  an 
echo  haunted  him.] 

"  PFilt  thou  rob  the  world. 
The  sweetness  and  the  promise  of  the  earth?'* 

[The  music  ceases.] 

Lo!     How  it  sparkles!     Mingled  flame  and  dew! 
One  draught!     One  taste! 

[He  puts  it  resolutely  to  his  lips. 
The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 
and  the  Daughters  of  the  Dawn 
veil  their  faces,  standing  like  a  Greek 
frieze.  Once  more  the  "Spring 
Song"  echoes,  a  mere  thread  of 
sound,] 

*'No  more  for  all  the  world 
Shall  there  be—" 

[He  stops.     The  music  dies,] 

Pah! 

[He  turns  savagely  to  The  Guardian 
of  the  Fountain.] 
[46I 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

Thy  words  have  poisoned  it! 
Made  it  a  thing  unclean  for  me  to  touch — 
How  shall  I  drink,  knowing  I  rob  the  world? 
How  shall  I  quench  the  only  spark  of  hope 
The  gray  earth  keeps? 

[Half -unbelieving  joy  flashes  across 
the  faces  of  the  Daughters  of  the 
Dawn  and  The  Guardian  of  the 
Fountain.] 

Spirit,  take  back  the  cup! 

[The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 
starts  forward.] 

No!    No!    I  spoke  in  jest.     Oh,  bitter  Youth, 

[To  himself y  deeply.] 

It  is  so  short,  and  stays  so  short  a  time. 

The   Guardian  of  the   Fountain   [with  grave 
gentleness] 

And  therefore  is  immortal. 


Ponce  de  Leon  [torn] 

Ah,  m 
Give  up  what  I  have  searched  for? 


Ah,  must  I 
rch( 
(47 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain  [immovable^  but 
with  her  eyes  on  his] 

*Tis  with  thee 
The  matter  rests.     Wilt  thou  condemn  the  world  ? 

[She  stretches  out  her  arms  in  plead- 
ing;  there  is  a  moment's  silence.] 

Ponce  de  Leon  [as  if  the  words  were  torn  from  him] 

No! 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain  [with  passion] 

By  this  Fountain,  spoken  like  a  man! 
This  land  shall  ever  be  a  land  of  youth 
To  all  the  nations!    Thou  hast  purchased  it, 
Oh,  great  adventurer!     Knight  of  Ocean-Sea, 
Courageous  captain! 

[She  takes  the  cup  from  him,] 

Ponce  de  Leon  [miserably] 

Ah,  what  shall  I  say 
When  men  taunt:  "Did  ye  find  the  goal  ye  sought, 
Proud  Ponce  de  Leon?     For  Americus, 
Cabato,  and  Magellan  did  succeed, 

[48] 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

Yea,  and  Columbus,  against  heavy  odds. 
So,  Ponce  de  Leon,  why  have  ye  come  back 
With  empty  hands?"    How  shall  I  answer  them 
In  verity? 

The  Guardian  of  the  Fountain 

Say,  /  have  dreamed  a  dream. 
Not  now,  but  later,  shall  my  dream  come  true. 
So  long,  so  long  as  dreamers  build  their  dreams 
Without  a  thought  of  gain  shall  Youth  endure 
Here  in  this  land.     Oh,  brave  adventurer. 
Face  thou  men*s  scorn  as  thou  hast  faced  the  waves, 
And  for  a  greater  reason.    Now,  farewell! 

Ponce  de  Leon  [his  eyes  on  her] 

But  it  goes  hard  to  part  with  thee  at  last! 
Oh,  Youth!     Lost  Youth!     Fountain  of  dreams. 


farewell! 


[He  bows  his  head.  The  Guardian 
OF  THE  Fountain  with  a  last  look 
returns  to  the  dim  forest,  the  Daugh- 
ters OF  THE  Dawn  fading  after  her, 
a  dim  glimmer  through  the  trees. 
Just  as  they  vanish  Silva  and 
Cordoba  appear  at  edge  of  woods, 
left.  Silva  holds  a  string  of  fish.] 
[49l 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Cordoba 

We  have  come  back.    Good  news!    We  found  a 
lake. 

SiLVA 

A  lake  with  fish  in  it.    A  mighty  catch! 

[He  holds  up  the  fish.\ 

Cordoba  [rubbing  his  hands  delightedly] 
Strength  to  renew  the  search ! 

Ponce  de  Leon 

Nay,  search  no  more. 
It  was  a  dream  that  led  me,  and  the  dream 
Ends  here. 

[They  are  about  to  question  him,  but 
something  in  his  demeanor  stops 
them.  He  walks  on  gravely ^  toward 
left.     They  follow.] 

Cordoba 

No  Fountain,  Silva! 
[SO] 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH 

SiLVA 

And  no  Youth! 
Cordoba 

Eh!    Eh!    Said  I  not  so? 

SiLVA 

And  yet  he  looks 
Uplift,  as  he  had  found  the  Fount  itself! 

[To  the  first  bars  of  Grieg  s  "Death 
of  Jse"  The  Guardian  of  the 
Fountain  and  the  attending  Daugh- 
ters OF  THE  Dawn  look  out  from 
right  in  pity,  then  they  silently  with- 
draw. Ponce  de  Leon  and  his 
followers  exity  and  the  stage  is  left 
vacant.] 


MAY-DAY 


MAY-DAY 

CHARACTERS: 

Miriam  Dorcas  Gideon 

Dream  Folk  (including  The  May-day  Fool,  The  Taborer,  Robin 

Hood,  Maid  Marian,  and  the  other  Morris-dancers) 

Place — Boston, 

Time — A  May-day  morning  in  the  year  i6$8. 

Scene — Interior  of  a  Puritan  home.  A  room  that 
is  stern  in  its  simplicity.  A  hearth  at  right, 
with  a  wood-fire  burning.  It  is  low  and  red. 
Andirons.  A  kettle  swinging  on  the  hob. 
Two  three-legged  iron  pots  a-simmer  near  the 
fire.  Also  an  iron  bowl.  A  hearth  broom  and 
bellows.  A  wooden  settle  with  a  high  back  by 
the  fire.     It  faces  audience. 

All  across  the  background  hang  dark-brown 
curtains,  which  part  in  the  middle  to  give  en- 
trance to  any  one  coming  or  going.  Just  beyond 
them  is  supposedly  the  door  which  gives  on  the 

[55] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

outer  world.  At  left,  near  foregroundy  a  high- 
hack  chair,  facing  right.  It  is  set  very  stiffly 
and  primly. 

At  the  rise  of  the  curtain  Miriam,  a  pretty, 
slender  young  Puritan  in  a  gray  dress,  with 
white  cap  and  kerchief,  is  kneeling  by  the 
hearth.  She  is  stirring  the  contents  of  a  pot 
with  a  long  iron  spoon. 

There  is  the  sound  of  a  latch  twitched  in  the 
background  behind  curtains.  Miriam  raises 
her  head,  puts  down  spoon,  and  listens.  The 
sound  is  repeated  very  cautiously  a  second  time. 

Miriam  [rising  and  listening] 

Nay,  that  is  some  one  pausing  at  our  door! 
'Tis  bolted  safely. 

[Raises  voice.] 

Who  is  there?    No  more 
A  single  sound.     Perhaps  'twere  best  to  see — 
Though  always  thoughts  of  Indians  frighten  me! 

[She  runs  through  curtains  to  door, 
and  immediately  there  is  the  sound  of 
a  door  opening.] 

Why,  Dorcas!     Dorcas! 

[56] 


Copyright,    19 » 3.   by   Jessie   Tarbox   Bea'. 
MIRIAM 


MAY-DAY 

[Dorcas  enters  with  Miriam.    She  is 

sixteen  or  seventeen  or  thereabout,  with 
mischief  dancing  in  her  eyes.  Her 
movements  are  light  and  quick.  She 
carries  a  May-basket  filled  with  May- 
flowers and  leaves.  Her  dress  is  a  deep 
bright  blue,  and  her  cloak  likewise.] 

Dorcas 

[indicating  flowers  that  have  dropped  from  basket.] 

See  what  you  have  done! 
Scattered  my  sweet  bright  posies,  every  one! 

[They  pick  up  flowers  and  put  basket 
on  hearth-shelf.] 

And  I  came  but  a  May-basket  to  twine 
Upon  the  latch  for  sake  of  auld  lang  syne. 

Miriam 
Thank  you,  sweet  Dorcas.     Come  you  in  and  rest. 
[They  go  to  fire.] 

Dorcas 

Where  are  your  parents,  Gideon,  and  the  rest.? 
[59] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Miriam 

Off  to  town-meeting,  and  I  bide  alone, 

And  tend  my  duties.     Wandering  airs  have  blown 

Your  cap  and  kerchief,  Dorcas,  all  awry. 

[Dorcas  settles  these  by  the  aid  of  a 
pewter  plate  which  she  takes  from  the 
hearth- shelf  and  uses  as  a  mirror. 
She  is  no  whit  abashed  by  the  in- 
telligence.] 

Dorcas 

Then  many  must  have  seen  it.     There  passed  by 
Folk  from  a  ship  new  landed,  old  and  young. 
And  as  I  looked  at  them  my  heart  was  wrung 
With  memories  of  England,  and  the  gay 
Sights  we  were  wont  to  see  there  on  May-day. 

Miriam 
Such  thoughts  for  Puritans  are  scarcely  meet. 

Dorcas  [on  settle,  her  eyes  dancing] 

Yea,  but  this  Puritan  has  wicked  feet. 

If  they  but  hear  a  tune  they  wish  to  dance. 

[60] 


MAY-DAY 

And  I  must  straightway  lecture  them:  "Advance 
Not  one  whit  further,  Master  Heel  and  Toe, 
Or  I,  alas,  into  the  stocks  may  go 
For  light  and  most  unseemly  wayfaring." 

[She  stretches  out  her  feet  in  square^ 
toed  slippers,  lecturing  them  with  an 
admonishing  forefinger,  then  tucks 
them  back  beneath  her  dress.] 

But  what  are  we  to  do  when  it  is  spring? 

Miriam 
Some  think  e'en  May-day  baskets  are  a  snare. 

Dorcas  [laughing  and  clapping  her  hands] 

They  are!  They  are!  Since  I  have  set  one  there 
And  you  have  sniffed  at  it.  We're  sinners,  all. 
But  thou  art  good. 

[She  gives  Miriam  a  swift  caress.] 

Miriam 

Nay,  nay!    My  spirits  fall 
In  thinking  of  my  sins.     Oh,  could  you  know 
What  I  did  think  on  but  an  hour  ago! 
[6i] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Dorcas 
What? 

Miriam  [shamefacedly] 

Oh,  I  longed  for  May-day  revelry, 
For  morris  bells  and  dancers  and  a  tree 
Decked  like  a  May-pole.     Oh,  can  I  forget 
May-day  in  England?    All  the  hedges  wet 
With  shining  dew — the  dawn  flush  in  the  skies. 
Always  they  made  me  turn  away  mine  eyes 
From  wickedness.     But  I — I  used  to  crawl 
Into  a  hidden  spot  behind  the  wall 
And  watch  them — pranked  in  yellow  and  in  red. 
With  bladders  that  they  banged  about  each  head, 
And  taborers  that  played  a  merry  tune — 
They  always  passed  a-down  the  street  too  soon. 

Dorcas 

I  know.     I  often  stole  a  look  at  them 
When  dew  lay  on  the  hawthorn  like  a  gem, 
The  morris-dancers  came,  and  everywhere 
They  waved  green  ferns  and  branches  through  the 

air. 
I  watched  the  jingling  fool,  in  motley  clad: 
Oh,  why  is  it  so  wicked  to  he  glad? 

Miriam 
Alas!    I  know  not. 

[62] 


MAY-DAY 
Dorcas 
What  is  this  you  make? 

Miriam 

Sweet  Basil  brew.     "Come,  let  us  now  partake," 
As  Gideon  says. 

[She  looks  mock  solemn,  then  smiles.] 

Tis  called  Queen  Mab's  own  drink. 

Dorcas 
Queen  Mab !    And  why  is  that.? 

Miriam 

Oh,  old  wives  think 
That  if  you  sup  and  wish  on  Basil  brew 
That  you  will  surely  have  your  wish  come  true. 

Dorcas  [impishly] 
Come,  sup! 

Miriam 

The  elders  frown  on  such  a  thing. 
[63] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 
Dorcas 

The  elders  are  a  long,  long  way  from  spring. 

Come,  wish. 

[Miriam  pours  the  brew  into  a  pew- 
ter cup.  Her  guest  sips  first.  Then 
they  look  at  each  other.] 

Miriam 
What  did  you  wish? 

Dorcas 

I  wished  to  see 
Once  more  a  morris-dance. 

Miriam  [half  guiltily] 

The  same  with  me! 
Come,  sit  you  down  beside  the  fire. 

[Tosses  on  a  fagot  or  two,] 

Dorcas 

How  blue 
The  little  flames  are!     By  a  wish — come — true 
It — seems — as — if — I — heard — a  morris-tune. 

[Drowsily.] 

[64] 


MAY-DAY 

[The  first  notes  of  the  morris^dance 
are  heard  very  faintly  and  delicately 
playedy  as  if  coming  from  behind  the 
curtains  at  background}] 

Miriam  [also  drowsily] 

I — know — a — ^wish — could — not — come — true — so 

— soon. 
Alack!    I  sleepy  grow. 

[Nods.] 

Dorcas  [rousing  herself  a  little] 

And  all  things  seem 
As  if  they  bloomed  and  wavered  in  a  dream 
Woven  by  fairy  Mab  with  tricksy  spells. 

[Faint  ringing  of  morris-bells  mingles 
with  the  faint  music] 

I — seem — to — hear — the — sound — of — morris - 
bells. 

[They  sleep,  seated  on  the  settle y  their 
heads  together,  the  firelight  touching 
them  with  rosy  glow.     Instantly  the 
'  See  chapter  on  music. 

(6s] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

curtains  are  parted  hy  The  May- 
day Fool,  clad  in  motley.  He  waves 
his  fool-sticky  on  which  bells  jingle 
softly.] 

The  Fool  [with  a  caper] 
Basil  brew! 
Dream  come  true! 

[With  grandiloquent  gesture  he  opens 
the  curtains  on  one  side,  and  Robin 
Hood  appears  on  the  other,  clad  in 
Lincoln  green.  Between  the  cur^ 
tains  come  Maid  Marian,  The 
Taborer  jingling  his  tabor,  a  tat- 
tered picturesque  fiddler,  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  morris-dancers.  The  fid- 
dler plays.  The  Taborer  jingles, 
and  all  sweep  into  a  set  of  morris- 
dances.  Morris  -  dance.  Bobbing 
Joe.  Laudanum  Bunches.  At  the 
end  of  the  dances,  and  with  music 
still  playing.  The  Fool  with  a 
caper  crosses  to  where  the  Puritan 
maids  are  dreaming,  waves  his  stick 
with  bells  over  them  as  if  breaking  a 
spell.  Then  he  and  Robin  Hood 
part  the  curtains,  and  all  dance  out, 
[66] 


MAY-DAY 

The  music  ceases  a  moment  after  with 
the  effect  of  growing  fainter  and 
farther  away.  Miriam  and  Dor- 
cas slowly  open  their  eyes,  stifle 
yawnsy  and  are  turning  to  look  at 
each  other  when  a  brisk  knock  is 
heard  without.] 

Miriam 
Hark!    Some  one  knocks! 

Dorcas  [dreamy-eyed\ 

I  dreamed  that  I  had  seen 
A  fool  in  motley,  Robin  Hood  in  green. 

Miriam  [settling  her  cap  ere  she  goes  to  the  door] 

The  same  did  I. 

/ 

Dorcas  [as  Miriam  goes  to  the  door] 

And  music  sweet  that  rang 
As  if  a  thrush  and  fifty  linnets  sang! 

[There  has  come  the  sound  of  a  latch 
being    lifted   and    a   door    opened. 
[(>7] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Miriam  re-entersy  followed  by  her 
brother  Gideon,  a  long-faced  young 
man  dressed  in  black  Puritan  garb. 
All  that  he  says  and  does  is  very 
solemn,] 

Miriam 
Qomt  in,  my  brother. 

Gideon 

Dorcas,  a  fair  day. 

Dorcas  [lightly] 
Yea,  as  it  should  be  on  the  first  of  May. 

Gideon 
I  have  heard  worthy  talk,  yea,  solemn  words. 

Dorcas  [provocatively] 

Tell  me,  good  Gideon,  did  you  hear  the  birds? 
And   did   you   know   that   May-flowers   were   in 
bloom  ? 

[Gideon  sees  for  the  first  time  the 
May-basket  on  the  hearth-shelf.   He  at 
once  takes  it  and  throws  it  into  the  fire.  ] 
[68] 


MAY-DAY 

Gideon 

I  do  not  give  unholy  trifles  room 
Within  my  thoughts. 

[Turns  to  his  sister,] 

And  while  I  was  away, 
Miriam,  tell  me  how  you  spent  the  day. 

Miriam 

First  did  I  sweep.    Then  filled  a  recipe 

For  Basil  brew,  and  comfrey,  and  sage-tea. 

Gideon  [pompously,  with  a  look  at  Dorcas] 

I  wish  all  maids  their  time  might  so  employ. 
And  find  their  daily  tasks  their  only  joy. 
I  wish  all  laughter  banished  from  the  earth 
So  folk  might  ponder  on  their  little  worth. 
Miriam,  Dorcas,  what  have  you  to  say? 

Miriam  [very  demurely] 
I  beg  you  not  to  wish  on  a  May-day. 

[She  looks  down  piously.] 

Dorcas  [looking  full  at  him,  and  speaking  with 
subtle  sweetness] 

Or  if  you  wish,  in  wishing  see  that  you 
Do  not  drink  deeply  of  sweet  Basil  brew! 
[69I 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 


.  This  play  formed  the  second  episode  of  the 
Historical  Pageant  of  Schenectady,  New  York, 
which  that  city  united  with  Union  College  in  giving 
as  a  three-day  celebration  of  the  two-hundred- 
and-fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  founding  of  the 
town.  The  pageant  was  staged  on  the  college 
grounds  with  a  background  of  woods  suggesting 
the  forest  primeval.  Through  this  wood,  running 
down  to  the  edge  of  the  pageant  grounds,  was  an 
old  Indian  trail  used  by  the  Five  Nations  from 
time  immemorial.  Near  this  vicinity  was  the  re- 
puted site  of  the  old  Mohawk  castle,  and  on  this 
very  spot  Arent  van  Curler,  as  in  the  play,  made 
his  purchase  of  land  from  the  Indians.  In  the 
play  many  of  the  words  spoken  by  the  characters 
are  taken  verbatim  from  old  letters,  diaries,  and 
histories  of  the  time.  The  scene  is  typical  of 
Dutch  pioneers  —  of  their  steady  progress  and 
sagacity,  of  their  complacent  stolidity  which  saw 
nothing  of  the  tragedy  of  the  vanishing  race  that 
was  enacted  before  their  eyes.  Arent  van  Curler 
was  one  of  the  most  important  figures  in  the 
history  of  New  York  State.  See  The  Jesuits  in 
North  America,  by  Francis  Parkman,  and  History 
of  the  United  States,  by  E.  Benjamin  Andrews,  for 
adequate  descriptions  of  the  time. 


THE  VANISHING  RACE^ 


CHARACTERS: 

Sawara  (an  Indian  medicine-woman) 
Kaswi   (an  Indian) 
Kennisgke   (an  Indian   chieftain) 
OcHEE  (a  lesser  chieftain) 
Arent  van  Curler  \ 
Nick  van  Valsen     f 
Jan  Wemp  C  ^^^^^^^  pioneers 

Peter  van  Slyck     / 
Indian    chieftains    and    braves.    Indian    maidens,   women,    and 
children. 

Time — 1662, 


Place — The  home  of  the  Five  Nations^  New  York 
State, 

Scene — A  cleared  space  in  a  forest. 

The  cleared  space  in  the  forest  has  trees  right, 
lefty  and  background.  An  Indian  trail  leads 
directly  up  background  to  the  "Castle**  or  home 
of  the  Five  Nations  that  stood  on  the  site  of  what 
is  now  the  modern  city  of  Schenectady.  The 
^  Copyright,  1912,  by  Constance  D'Arcy  MacKay. 

[73I 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

castle  is  not  seen,  as  it  is  farther  back  in  the 
forest. 

There  are  two  wigwams  at  right,  one  in  hack' 
ground,  and  three  at  left.  Rude  howls  for 
holding  corn.  Two  slender  poles  with  a  willow^ 
hark  rope  hetween  them  on  which  some  pieces 
of  venison  are  drying,  A  fire  at  right.  The 
wigwam  that  is  farthest  to  the  right  has  red 
cabalistic  signs  on  its  door.  Some  corn  and  a 
squash  lie  just  at  the  door,  as  if  left  there  as  a  gift. 

The  play  hegins  with  the  entrance  of  a  group 
of  laughing  Indian  maidens  who  seat  them- 
selves in  a  semicircle,  background.  An  old 
Indian  enters,  and  one  of  the  maidens  runs  up  to 
him  and  apparently  begs  him  for  something. 
He  disappears  into  a  wigwam  at  the  left,  and 
appears  again  with  an  old  and  battered  Indian 
war-drum.  Sitting  by  the  door  of  the  wigwam, 
he  beats  out  a  barbaric  measure  on  it,  and  an 
Indian  maiden  who  has  just  come  in  with  an 
armful  of  the  first  yellow  leaves  of  autumn 
imitates  the  whirling  of  the  falling  leaves  in  a 
brief  dance  pantomime,  which  the  other  Indian 
maidens  watch,  half  teasing  her.^  The  dance 
ends,  and  the  maiden  is  crossing  toward  the  old 
Indian  when  Sawara  appears  in  the  back- 
ground,   a    magnificently    picturesque    Indian 

*  See  chapter  on  music. 

[74] 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 

woman  of  middle  years,  tall  and  straight,  wear^ 
ingy  besides  her  Indian  dress,  gorgeous  neck- 
laces and  armlets,  and  a  black  and  white  blanket 
curiously  woven.  The  Indian  maidens  give 
way  before  her  with  gestures  of  obeisance, 
Sawara  i7iclines  her  head  gravely  and  goes 
directly  to  wigwam  at  right  where  the  decorated 
door  is.  The  Indian  maidens  retire  to  extreme 
left,  where  they  sit  laughing  and  chattering  in 
pantomime.  Kaswi  enters  from  right,  a  shifty- 
eyed  Indian.  He  approaches  Sawara  with  too 
great  humility.  He  speaks  to  her  haltingly,  as 
one  who  would  make  himself  familiar  with  the 
tongue  of  the  Palefaces. 

Kaswi.  Speak  in  the  tongue  of — the  Palefaces, 
Sawara,  that — I — may — also — learn — to — speak — 
it.  [Sawara  looks  straight  before  her.]  You — ^who 
— have — lived — near — the  houses — of  the  Pale- 
faces, and — have — the — gift — of — tongues — ^you 
— who — are — the — medicine-woman,  and — very — 
wise.  [Pleadingly.]  As — a — favor,  Sawara.  [He 
puts  a  bunch  of  herbs  beside  the  other  gifts  that  lie  by 
her  wigwam.]  As — a — favor,  Sawara!  [She  will 
not  look  at  him.]  In — the — ^winter — Kaswi — 
brought — many  beaver-skins — to — the — door — of 
the  wigwam  of  Sawara.  A  gift  for  a  gift,  Sawara. 
[He  pauses,  looking  at  her  craftily. \ 
[7Sl 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Sawara  [with  great  dignity].  A  gift  for  a  gift, 
Kaswi.  You  are  over -anxious  to  speak  in  the 
tongue  of  the  Palefaces.  It  bodes  ill  for  one 
nation  to  copy  another  nation.  As  for  the  tongue 
of  the  Paleface,  it  will  soon  be  the  only  tongue 
we  shall  hear.  [Bitterly.]  Our  own  tongue  will 
be  no  more  remembered  than  the  song  of  the 
cricket  when  summer  is  over. 

Kaswi.  You  who  have  lived  near  the  houses 
of  the  Palefaces — 

Sawara  [proudly].  If  I  have  lived  near  the 
houses  of  the  Palefaces  it  was  not  of  my  own 
choosing.  [She  wheels  on  him,  head  thrust  forth  like 
a  snake  about  to  strike,  her  eyes  glittering  and  narrow- 
ing  as  she  hisses  the  words  at  him.]  I  can  tell  you 
why  you  are  anxious  to  learn  their  tongue,  Kaswi. 
It  is  so  you  can  do  better  trading.  [They  face  each 
other  for  an  instant.  Then  Sawara  turns  from  him, 
and  on  impulse  turns  back  again.]  A  gift  for  a  gift, 
Kaswi.     My  gift  is  given. 

[She  enters  her  wigwam,  only  appear- 
ing  again  when  the  Dutch  pioneers 
arrive.  While  she  has  been  speak- 
ing Indian  braves  and  chiefs  come  in 
from  left  with  a  few  trophies  of  the 
hunt,  a  rabbit  or  two  and  some  birds. 
The    Indian    women^   followed    hy 

[76] 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 

children,  come  hi  from  background 
with  wild  apples  and  herbs.  The 
whole  camp  is  full  of  movement  and 
color.  The  Indian  women  are  has- 
tening to  replenish  the  fire  with  wood; 
others  are  grinding  corn  between 
stones.  One  of  them  is  weaving  a 
basket;  another  is  weaving  a  blanket; 
still  another  is  hanging  a  papoose  up 
in  a  tree,  while  the  Indian  maidens 
stand  laughingly  beneath  it. 

[From  the  woods  in  left  appear  the 
Dutch  pioneers  on  horseback.  They 
are  Arent  van  Curler,  Van  Val- 
SEN,  ^  miller,  Jan  Wemp,  and  Peter 
VAN  Slyck.  The  braves  see  them, 
and  point  them  out  with  exclamations: 
*'Ugh!  Ugh!"  The  Indian  women 
and  maidens  cease  their  duties  and 
chatter.  Sawara,  aware  of  some- 
thing unusual,  looks  out  and  comes 
forward.  Jan  Wemp  leads  a  pack- 
horse  to  whose  sides  are  strapped 
kegs  of  gunpowder.  The  men  tether 
their  horses  at  right  and  come  forward 
to  center,  Van  Curler  in  the  lead. 
The  Indian  women  go  to  background. 
The  Indian  men  remain  stolidly  in 
l77l 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

thfir  places.  Sawara  seats  herself 
alone  at  the  far  left,  forward.  She 
watches  all  that  takes  place.] 

Van  Curler.  Greetings  to  the  chiefs  of  the 
Mohawks. 

Kennisgke.  The  chiefs  give  greeting  to  their 
"very  good  friend,"  Van  Curler. 

OcHEE.  Van  Curler  smoke  peace-pipe  with 
Mohawks. 

[The  Indians  assemble  for  council, 
A  great  circle  is  formed  about  the 
fire.  The  peace-pipe  is  lit  and 
passed.  Sawara  rises  and  crosses 
to  the  door  of  her  own  wigwam,  where 
she  sits  waiting.  As  those  in  coun- 
cil speak  they  rise  from  the  circle, 
then  seat  themselves  again.] 

Van  Curler.  Greetings  to  you,  O  chiefs,  from 
Van  Curler  and  from  the  Big  Chief,  Governor  Peter 
Stuy vesant,  with  whose  knowledge  I  have  come  to 
you.  Not  alone  have  I  come  to  your  council.  With 
me  are  my  friends  Jan  Wemp,  Van  Slyck,  and  the 
miller  Van  Valsen.  They,  too,  would  speak  with 
you,  knowing  you  friends  of  the  Palefaces. 

Kennisgke.  The  friends  of  Van  Curler  are 
welcome. 

[78] 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 

OcHEE.  There  are  none  more  wise  than  Van 
Curler. 

Van  Curler  [flatteringly].  There  are  none 
greater  than  the  Sachems  who  are  chiefs  of  the 
Tribe  of  the  Bear.  Their  hatchets  are  as  keen 
as  the  north  wind  and  their  eyes  are  as  eagles*  eyes. 
[Offers  wampum.]  Will  Kennisgke  accept  a  gift 
from  his  friend  Van  Curler?  [Offers  great  strings 
of  heads.  Kennisgke  grunts,  and  offers  a  heaver- 
skin  in  return.] 

Van  Curler.  We  thank  the  chief  for  his  gift. 

Kennisgke.  Will  the  corlear  ^  rest  after  his 
long  journey?  Let  food  be  brought  to  him 
and  to  his  friends. 

[Indian  maidens  run  down  with  food 
and  drink,  venison  and  water.] 

Van  Curler.  The  women  of  the  tribe  of  the 
Mohawks  are  fair  and  gentle,  and  the  warriors 
strong. 

Kennisgke.  Let  our  white  brother  speak  his 
mind. 

Van  Curler.  Friends,  it  is  long  since  I  came 
to  this  new  country  to  direct  that  portion  of  it 
belonging  to  Killean  van  Rensselaer  the  patroon, 
my  uncle.     It  is  twenty  years  since    I  first  saw 

*  A  term  of  respect. 

[81] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Shonowe.^  It  was  fair  then.  It  is  not  less  fair 
now. 

Kennisgke.  We  listen. 

Van  Curler.  But  we  men  of  Beverwick  and 
Rensselaer  grow  weary  of  the  place  we  dwell  in. 
We  speak  to  our  brothers,  the  Sachems,  freely, 
knowing  them  to  be  of  our  mind,  knowing  that 
they  love  justice  and  freedom. 

OcHEE.  The  corlear  speaks  truly. 

Van  Curler.  We  would  found  a  settlement 
where  all  men  would  be  free  and  equal,  where  the 
men  would  say  "we"  and  "our"  instead  of 
"my"  and  "mine." 

Several  of  the  Young  Braves.  Good  counsel! 
The  Sachems  listen. 

Van  Valsen.  Furthermore,  we  are  not  alto- 
gether free.  There  are  those  who  rule  our  coming 
and  going,  the  great  East  India  Company,  of 
which  my  brothers  have  already  heard.  We 
would  lessen  the  weight  of  that  yoke  also.  We 
speak  to  our  brothers  in  confidence,  knowing  they 
know  us  of  old. 

Kennisgke  [gravely].  What  the  chieftains  have 
heard  with  their  ears  will  not  go  out  by  way  of 
their  tongues. 

Van  Curler  [gaining  confidence].  Therefore,  my 

*  Early  name  of  Schenectady,  given  by  the  Indians  and  meaning 
"Land  beyond  the  Pine  Plains." 

[82] 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 

brothers,  we  have  come  to  you  for  two  reasons. 
One,  because  we  know  you  and  trust  you,  and 
because  your  land  is  fair;  the  other,  because  we 
know  that  game  is  scarce  in  your  borders.  The  guns 
of  the  Paleface  have  killed  it.  The  time  will 
come  when  you  will  not  dwell  in  Shonowe.  If  my 
brothers  must  sell,  why  not  sell  to  their  very  good 
friend?  [Silence.  The  Indians  smoke  imperturb' 
ably.]     What  say  the  chiefs  of  the  Mohawks? 

Kennisgke.  I  make  answer  to  the  corlear:  Does 
a  man  sell  his  home?  Does  he  quench  his  hearth- 
fire  for  strangers? 

[Sawara    leans  forward,    listening 
passionately.] 

All  Braves.  Wah!    No!    No! 
Van  Curler.  You  will  not  sell? 
All  Braves  [loudly].  No! 

[Sawara's  face  shows  deep  joy.] 

Kennisgke.  Brothers,  shall  we  not  keep  our 
castle,  the  home  of  the  great  Five  Nations? 

All  Braves  [with  one  accord].  Yes! 

Van  Curler.  Have  I  ever  deceived  you,  my 
brothers,  or  spoken  untruly? 

All  Braves.  Never,  corlear. 
[83  1 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Van  Curler.  Or  cheated  you,  or  made  a  bad 
bargain  ? 

OcHEE.  No.    The  corlear  is  always  honest. 

Van  Curler  [impressively].  Then  listen  to  me 
now,  for  I  am  telling  you  the  truth.  If  you  do  not 
deal  with  me  the  time  is  coming  when  you  must 
deal  with  others.  There  is  wisdom  in  what  I 
say.  Sachems.  We  will  give  you  a  just  price  for 
your  land,  and  we  will  build  our  farms  on  it.  Do 
not  be  hasty  in  refusing,  for  it  will  be  as  I  have 
said.  Will  my  brothers  talk  with  the  tribe? 
There  are  new  lands  for  them  to  the  westward. 

[The  council  breaks  up.  Van  Cur- 
ler and  his  followers  confer  at  left. 
The  Indians  confer  at  right.] 

Van  Curler.  If  the  chiefs  consent  to  sell  their 
land  there  will  be  room  for  fifteen  farms  and  for 
each  man  a  pasture  to  the  east  of  the  village  and 
a  garden  to  the  south  of  the  village,  and  we  will 
call  the  place  Schenectady,  and  in  our  tongue  it 
will  mean  "Beautiful  Valley."^ 

Van  Valsen  [looking  at  the  Indians],  What  are 
they  doing? 

Van  Slyck.  They  are  calling  out  a  medicine- 
woman  to  go  before  their  gods  for  them.     It  is  a 

*  Actual  words. 

[84] 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 

custom    they    have.     They   will    decide    by    the 
magic  sticks. 

[It  is  seen  that  Kennisgke  summons 
Sawara  by  gesture,  bidding  her  to  the 
council  fire.  She  shakes  her  head. 
Again,  by  gesture,  he  commands  her. 
She  begins  to  cross  slowly  toward  the 
fire.] 

Van  Valsen.  I  have  heard  of  her  before  time. 
They  say  she  has  the  gift  of  tongues,  and  once 
lived  near  the  white  folk  of  our  village.  The 
Indians  hold  her  in  great  honor.  They  say  she 
can  foretell  the  future. 

Wemp  [piously].  It  is  necromancy!  I  will  have 
none  of  it.  ^ 

[The  Dutch  pioneers  retire  to  left, 
Sawara  and  the  Indians  gather  at 
right  to  the  notes  of  MacDoweWs 
^^From  an  Indian  Lodge, ^*  The 
music  rises,  then  dies.] 

Kennisgke.  Speak,  Sawara.  You  who  have 
dwelt  near  the  houses  of  the  Palefaces,  you  who 
have  the  gift  of  tongues.  What  will  become  of  it, 
Sawara  ?  Prophesy.  Speak  in  the  tongue  of  the 
Palefaces. 

[85] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Sawara  [facing  audience  as  one  who  sees  dimly 
the  first  of  a  vision].  The  land  shall  be  sold,  but 
for  us  no  good  will  come  of  it.  But  the  man  who 
wishes  to  buy  it  is  a  good  man.     He  will  prosper. 

Kennisgke.  But  for  us,  Sawara — 

Sawara.  You  have  seen  the  graying  ashes  of 
the  camp-fire.  When  the  white  man  comes  only 
the  ashes  will  be  left  to  us.     [She  falls  silent.] 

OcHEE.  Speak  in  the  tongue  of  the  Paleface. 

Sawara.  What  shall  I  speak  when  my  heart  is 
as  twisted  as  a  willow-tree  in  the  wind?  Shall  I 
make  a  medicine  when  my  spirit  is  gone  from  me? 
[Yet  she  takes  the  first  few  steps  of  the  medicine  dance 
at  the  fire  to  the  rhythm  of  MacDoweWs  music, 
Kaswi  approaches  and  throws  on  a  bundle  of  the 
magic  sticks.  Blue  and  green  flames  are  seen  to  rise 
and  flicker,  Sawara* s  voice  becomes  that  of  a 
prophetess.     Her  eyes  see  visions.] 

I  sing  the  song  of  my  people, 
I  sing  the  grief  of  my  people. 
You  will  sell  the  land  to  the  Paleface, 
For  what  will  be  will  be. 
There  is  no  help  for  it. 
Our  hunting-grounds  are  deserted. 
There  are  few  fish  left  in  the  streams — 
We  must  go  or  starve. 
We  must  sell  the  land  to  the  Paleface. 
[861 


Photograph  by  A.  J.    White 


ARENT    VAN    CURLER,    FROM    THE    HISTORICAL    PAGEANT    OF 
SCHENECTADY 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 

A  hundred  hundred  years  has  our  tribe  trodden  the 

trail. 
They  shall  tread  it  no  more. 
A  hundred  hundred  years  has  the  smoke  gone  up 

from  these  wigwams — 
The  years  are  over. 

You  will  sell  the  land  to  the  Paleface — 
He  will  dwell  where  once  was  your  dwelling. 
For  a  few  years  you  will  flourish, 
And  then  there  will  be  no  more  strength  in  you 

than  there  is  in  a  wet  bow-string. 
Our  faces  are  turned  toward  the  sunset. 
The  shadows  gather  around  us. 
What  will  be  will  be. 
There  is  no  help  for  it. 
I  sing  the  song  of  my  people. 
I  sing  the  grief  of  my  people. 

[Sawara  ceases  and  moves  back  from 
the  camp-fire.  The  Mohawks  are 
depressed.] 

Kennisgke.  This  is  woman  talk,  Sawara. 

Sawara.  It  may  be  a  woman  speaks  truly. 

OcHEE.  She  has  the  gift  of  tongues  and  can 
prophesy.     What  will  be  will  be. 

Sawara.  Never  came  good  of  greed.  [She 
stands  apart  from  her  people.] 

I89] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Kennisgke.  Corlear,  it  is  hard  to  answer.  If 
we  sell  to  you  you  will  deal  with  us  fairly.  It  is 
true  that  game  is  scarce,  and  our  hunters  are  long 
in  finding  it.  It  is  true  that  there  are  new  lands 
to  the  westward.  [To  Indians.]  My  brothers,  if 
what  must  be  must  be,  let  us  sell  to  our  very  good 
friends.  [Sawara  hides  her  face  with  her  blanket.] 
What  say  you.^* 

The  Braves.  Let  us  sell. 

Van  Curler.  Great  Chief,  I  will  deal  with  you 
fairly.  For  your  lands  we  will  give  you  four  kegs 
of  the  gunpowder  that  the  Mohawks  so  greatly 
prize. 

Kennisgke.  It  is  enough.  We  will  make  our 
brothers  welcome.  We  will  move  our  wigwams 
westward.     We  will  quench  our  camp-fire. 

Van  Curler.  Then  let  us  sign  the  charter. 

[A  roll  of  parchment,  quill  pen,  and 
ink'horn  are  brought  by  Van  Valsen. 
The  Dutch  pioneers  and  the  two 
Indians  sign  the  charter.  The  horse 
with  the  kegs  of  gunpowder  is  ap- 
proached  by  the  Indians  and  the  kegs 
unstrapped.  While  the  men  are 
signing  the  charter  the  wigwams  are 
taken  down,  the  squaws  and  maidens 
gathering  their  blankets  and  cooking- 
[90] 


THE  VANISHING  RACE 

utensils.  Young  braves  take  down 
and  carry  the  wigwams — there  is  no 
time  now  for  the  women  to  do  all  the 
work.  The  men  march  first,  single 
file,  the  squaws,  maidens,  and  chil- 
dren follozving  in  groups  of  ones  and 
twos.  Again  the  notes  of  "  From  an 
Indian  Lodge"  are  played.  It  is 
evident  that  the  never-ending  march 
westward  has  begun.  The  last  In- 
dian to  leave  is  Sawara,  looking 
straight  before  her.] 

Van  Curler.  Come.    Let  us  choose  a  spot  on 
which  to  build  our  farms. 

[The  pioneers  mount  their  horses  and 
ride  away.] 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 


This  play  formed  the  opening  episode  of  the 
Historical  Pageant  of  Schenectady,  New  York, 
which  that  city  united  with  Union  College  in 
giving  as  a  three-day  celebration  of  the  two- 
hundred-and-fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  founding 
of  the  town.  The  pageant  was  staged  on  the  col- 
lege grounds  with  a  background  of  woods  suggest- 
ing the  forest  primeval.  Through  this  wood, 
running  down  to  the  edge  of  the  pageant  grounds, 
was  an  old  Indian  trail,  used  by  the  Five  Nations 
from  time  immemorial.  Near  this  vicinity  was 
the  reputed  site  of  the  famous  Mohawk  "castle." 
But  why  Hiawatha  in  this  vicinity  ?  the  reader  will 
ask.  The  following  paragraph  will  explain.  It 
IS  taken  from  an  article  by  Mr.  Horatio  Hale  in 
the  Proceedings  of  the  American  Academy  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science. 

"Hiawatha  was  a  chief  of  the  Onondagas,^  who 
succeeded  in  bringing  about  a  league  or  union 
of  the  Five,  afterward  Six,  Nations.  .  .  .  Mr. 
Schoolcraft  transferred  the  hero  to  a  distant  region, 
identifying  him  with  a  divinity  of  the  Ojibways. 

*  Modern  Schenectady  stands  on  their  former  hunting-ground. 

[9Sl 


It  is  to  this  (Mr.  Schoolcraft's)  collection  that  we 
owe  the  poem  of  Longfellow." 

But  so  great  is  the  power  of  poetry  in  coloring 
fact  that  popular  knowledge  will  always  associate 
Hiawatha  with  the  "land  of  the  Big  Sea  Water" — 
the  Great  Lakes.  Therefore  in  preparing  this 
play  for  general  producing  the  author  has  sub- 
stituted Ojibway  instead  of  Mohawk  names 
throughout,  and  has  placed  the  play  in  the  land 
of  Longfellow's  poem  so  as  to  avoid  confusion, 
realizing  that  the  average  community  in  giving 
the  play  will  wish  to  adhere  to  the  traditions  that 
they  already  know,  unvexed  and  unpuzzled  by 
any  thought  of  origins. 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA' 


CHARACTERS; 


Star  of  Springtime 

MiSKODEED 

The  Chief  of  the  Omahas 
The  Chief  of  the  Dacotahs 
The  Chief  of  the  Blackfeet 
The  Chief  of  the  Pawnees 
The  Chief  of  the  Choctaws 
Heron's  Plume  (a  young  brave) 
The  Spirits  of  the  Sunset 
Indian  maidens  and  women.    Indian 


Hiawatha 

Fezhe-kee 

Sa-ja-wun 

Me-da-kee-wis 

Ahmeek 

Oweenee 

Wabenowusk  )  t  •    1   1 
.  y  Little  boys 

Adjidamus       ) 

Bright  Flower 

Other  braves  and  warriors. 

children. 

Time — 16^0, 


Place — St.  Esprit,  near  La  Pointe,  on  the  western 
extremity  of  Lake  Superior, 

Scene — An  Indian  encampment.      Wigwams  in  the 
background  and  a  camp-fire  at  right. 

The  play  opens  with  the  entrance  0/ Ahmeek, 
an  old  medicine-man,  and  Me-da-kee-wis,  an 
old  flute-player,  deep   in   talk.     Two   squaws 
*  Copyright,  1912,  by  Constance  D'Arcy  MacKay. 

[97] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

enter;  one  begins  to  grind  corn,  another  hangs 
a  papoose  up  in  a  tree.  A  group  of  Indian 
maidens  enter  from  background;  some  of  them 
have  baskets  for  weaving,  but  they  pay  more 
attention  to  chattering  together  than  to  work. 
Presently  comes  Oweenee,  a  woman  of  middle 
years  and  great  importance  in  the  camp.  On 
her  back  is  a  bundle  of  fagots.  She  looks  keenly 
at  the  idle  maidens. 

Oweenee 
Star  of  Springtime,  take  the  fagots. 

[Star  of  Springtime  does  as  she  is 
bid;  tosses  fagots  on  fire.] 

In  my  youth  I  was  not  idle, 
Did  not  spend  my  time  in  gazing 
Upward  at  the  birch-tree  branches. 

[Maidens  under  this  reproach  work 
with  furious  industry.  Oweenee 
takes  a  loom  and  begins  to  weave  at 
center.] 

Star  of  Springtime  [pouting] 

Oweenee  is  ever  scolding! 
Like  an  arrowhead  her  tongue  is! 
[98] 


Phutuyraph    by    A.    J.    White 

HIAWATHA,   FROM  THE   HISTORICAL   PAGEANT  OF  SCHENECTADY 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

[A  group  of  Indian  children  rush  in 
from  background,  almost  overturning 
Oweenee's  weaving-frame  in  their 
play.] 

Owe E NEE  [severely] 

Children  who  disturb  their  elders 
Will  be  turned  to  little  rabbits. 
Think  of  this,  O  Wabenowusk, 
And  you,  too,  O  Adjidamus! 

[Little   Indian  hoys  retire  abashed.] 

An  Indian  Maiden 
Where  is  Bright  Flower? 

Second  Indian  Maiden 

She  is  coming. 

[Bright  Flower  appears  in  back- 
ground.] 

In  the  brook  she  saw  her  likeness. 
Paused  to  watch  it  and  admire  it. 

[Star  of  Springtime  laughs.] 

[lOl] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Bright  Flower 

If  I  told  tales  on  my  neighbors 

I  might  say  much,  Star  of  Springtime. 

MiSKODEED 

Here  comes  Pezhe-kee,  the  hunter. 
He  has  spent  the  Moon  of  Leafage 
In  the  land  beyond  the  river. 

[Pezhe-kee  enters  from  lefty  and, 
seating  himself  near  Oweenee,  tosses 
a  pack  of  skins  from  his  back.] 

Oweenee 

It  is  long  since  we  have  seen  you. 
Greetings,  friend. 

Pezhe-kee 

And  to  you,  also. 
All  the  Month  of  Leaves  I  hunted 
In  the  land  beyond  the  river. 
Fur  and  feathers  I  was  seeking. 
Feathers  for  the  arrow-maker. 
Skins  to  keep  us  warm  in  winter. 
[102] 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

And  for  one  who  maketh  medicine 
Bear's  claws  for  a  magic  necklace. 

[He  crosses  to  right  and  presents 
necklace  to  Ahmeek,  then  returns  to 
OwEENEE,  stretching  his  lithe  young 
length  on  the  grass.] 

It  is  good  to  see  our  wigwams. 
Good  to  see  the  smoke  ascending. 
Very  pleasant  is  our  northland. 
Very  sweet  the  murmuring  forest. 
But  I  find  the  camp  deserted. 

OwEENEE 

The  young  braves  have  gone  to  forage. 

Pezhe-kee 
Tell  me,  where  is  Hiawatha? 

Oweenee 

He  is  gone  into  the  forest 
There  to  fast  and  to  petition 
The  Great  Spirit  for  his  people. 
Later,  when  the  hour  is  ready, 
[103] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

He  will  summon  to  these  wigwams 

The  great  chieftains  of  the  nations; 

He  will  call  a  camp-fire  council, 

And  the  chiefs  will  smoke  the  peace-pipe. 

On  a  hilltop  far  and  lonely 

Hiawatha  keeps  his  vigil. 

While  below  him,  in  the  shadow. 

Waits  Sa-ja-wun,  the  swift  runner. 

At  a  sign  from  Hiawatha 

Will  Sa-ja-wun  come  to  tell  us 

That  the  council  fire  be  lighted. 

That  the  great  chiefs  are  approaching. 

Pezhe-kee 

Wisely  Hiawatha  rules  us. 

He  the  son  of  fair  Wenonah. 

He  descended  from  the  West  Wind. 

OWEENEE 

All  the  green  month  of  New  Leafage 
Has  he  been  apart  and  silent; 
And  toward  evening  by  his  wigwam 
He  has  sat  with  face  uplifted 
Looking  toward  the  Land  of  Sunset; 
Sat  as  one  who  hears  strange  voices 
Calling,  calling  through  the  twilight. 
[104] 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

And  my  heart  grows  very  heavy. 
No,  I  will  not  think  upon  it. 

[Resumes  work.] 

There  may  be  no  cause  for  sorrow. 
I  will  give  my  thoughts  to  labor. 

[Turns  sharply.] 

In  the  mean  time  Indian  maidens 
Need  not  let  their  hands  be  idle! 

[Indian  maidens  cease  chattering  and 
fall  to  work.  Owe E NEE  rises,  puts 
away  her  work,  and,  taking  a  basket 
for  herbs,  exits  background.  In- 
stantly the  maidens  show  their  joy. 
Work  is  abandoned.] 

MiSKODEED 

She  is  gone!    Oh,  in  my  pulses 
I  can  feel  the  pulse  of  springtime! 
Let  us  dance,  O  lovely  Bright  Flower, 
To  the  flute  of  Me-da-kee-wis! 

Bright  Flower 

Plead  with  him,  O  Star  of  Springtime! 
Tell  him  that  we  love  his  music 
Better  than  we  love  the  south  wind! 
[105] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Star  of  Springtime 

Play  to  us,  O  Me-da-kee-wis, 
You  alone  who  know  the  flute  notes 
That  can  move  our  feet  to  dancing. 
Play  to  us,  O  Me-da-kee-wis! 

[Me-da-kee-wis  'plays,   Ahmeek 
with  his  medicine-drum  heating  time.] 

MiSKODEED 

Bright  Flower,  let  us  dance  the  Corn  Dance, 
Let  us  dance  the  Dance  of  Planting 
Softly  as  the  wind  through  corn-fields. 
Tossing  as  the  silken  tassels, 
Swaying  as  the  rustling  corn-stalks. 

Bright  Flower  [joyfully] 

Dance  as  at  the  feast  of  planting, 
Or  the  great  feast  of  Mondamin! 
Miskodeed,  bring  forth  the  corn-stalks! 

[MiSKODEED  hastens  to  bring  forth 
some  corn  on  the  stalk.  Their  first 
dance  sways  like  a  dance  of  harvest, 
with  few  steps,  hut  with  hending  of 
[io6] 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

the  body.  When  this  ends  they  put 
by  the  corn  and  begin  the  second  or 
corn-planting  dance.  They  stoop  to 
the  music  in  long  rows,  each  maiden 
pretending  to  take  kernels  of  corn 
from  a  basket  which  she  carries, 
planting  it  in  the  earth,  treading  the 
earth  over  it  to  music.  Then  they 
lift  the  next  kernels  skyward,  as  if 
imploring  the  blessing  of  the  Great 
Spirit,  then  plant  them  and  tread 
them,  passing  forward  with  these 
gestures  till  the  end  of  the  music] 

Star  of  Springtime 
Play  again,  0  Me-da-kee-wis ! 

[A  sound  of  the  war-drum  is  heard 
faintly  from  left.] 

Bright  Flower 
Listen!    Is  it  Hiawatha? 

MiSKODEED 

[Running  to  look  from  background.] 

No!     It  is  the  Braves  returning! 
They  are  feathered  for  the  war-path! 
[107] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

All  their  tomahawks  are  ready! 
Let  us  stay  and  see  the  war-dance. 

[Indian  maidens  sit  in  background. 
Braves  enter  from  right.] 

[They  go  straight  to  Me-da-kee-wis, 
led  by  Heron's  Plume.] 

Heron's  Plume 

Play  to  us,  O  Me-da-kee-wis! 

Ah  meek,  dance  for  us  the  war-dance. 

Ahmeek  [tranquilly] 
Why  this  war-talk?    We  are  peaceful. 

Heron's  Plume 

On  the  borders  of  our  nation 
We  have  seen  a  tribe  of  strangers. 
They  are  like  to  the  Comanches 
And— 

Ahmeek 

How  big  a  tribe?     Speak  truly. 
Speak! 

[io8] 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

Heron's  Plume  [sullenly] 

Ahmeek,  they  are  a  small  tribe. 
But  a  small  tribe  may  breed  mischief. 

Ahmeek 

What  are  we,  the  great  Ojibways, 

That  the  coming  or  the  going 

Of  a  small  tribe  should  make  interest? 

Heron's  Plume  [still  sullen] 
We  would  be  upon  the  war-path! 

Me-da-kee-wis 

Ahmeek,  hark!    The  spring  is  on  them; 
In  our  youth  the  blood  runs  quickly. 
Let  them  have  their  war-dance,  Ahmeek. 

[Ahmeek  gives  a  grunt  of  assent, 
swings  his  medicine-sticky  and  moves 
to  firey  where  he  takes  the  first  steps 
of  a  medicine 'dance,  Me-da-kee- 
wis  tapping  on  the  drum.] 

The  Braves  [delighted] 
Medicine!    Ai  yi!    He  makes  it! 

7  [109] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

[The  drum-tapping  grows  louder  and 
more  barbaric.  The  braves  swing 
into  circle  and  presently  are  leaping 
in  the  war-dance.  They  rush  off 
background,  but  before  the  camp  has 
settled  down  again  Sa-ja-wun  enters.] 

Ahmeek 
Comes  Sa-ja-wun,  the  swift  runner. 

Sa-ja-wun  [panting] 

Ahmeek,  where  are  all  the  warriors? 

Hiawatha  bids  me  tell  you 

That  he  calls  the  braves  to  council. 

The  great  chieftains  of  the  nations. 

Hiawatha's  fast  is  ended. 

He  will  speak  to  us  in  council. 

Ahmeek 

The  young  braves  are  on  the  war-path. 
Turn  them  homeward,  fleet  Sa-ja-wun. 

Sa-ja-wun 

I  will  speed  me  like  an  arrow! 
[no] 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

[He  darts  away^  background.  From 
left  in  full  panoply  come  the  chief- 
tains of  the  nations,  one  by  one.] 

Me-da-kee-wis 

Come  the  great  chiefs  of  the  nations, 
Come  the  Pawnees  and  the  Blackfeet, 
The  Dacotahs  and   Shoshones, 
Omahas,  and  for  Ojibways 
Last  of  all  comes — Hiawatha. 

[Js  the  chieftains  pass  the  council 
fire  a  great  murmur  of  admiration 
goes  up  from  the  camp:  ** Hiawatha! 
Hiawatha  r] 

Hiawatha 

Greetings  to  you,  O  my  people. 
Greetings,  O  you  mighty  chieftains. 
Let  us  smoke  the  pipe  together. 
Let  the  council  fire  be  lighted. 
Where  are  all  the  younger  warriors? 

Ahmeek 

Fleet  Sa-ja-wun  runs  to  bring  them. 
tin] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

[Js  Hiawatha  goes  on  speaking 
Sa-ja-wun  and  the  young  warriors 
return  and  seat  themselves  in  council.] 


Hiawatha 

Brothers,  I  have  much  to  tell  you. 
When  I  heard  the  Spirit  call  me 
Many  days  I  prayed  and  fasted 
On  a  hilltop,  far  and  lonely. 
Till  great  Manitou,  the  mighty, 
Sent  this  message:   "Hiawatha, 
Leave  the  trail  and  leave  the  hunting. 
Leave  the  camp-fire  and  the  wigwam. 
Turn  unto  the  Land  of  Sunset, 
Bid  farewell  to  all  the  nations. 
For  your  time  with  them  is  ended." 

Indian  Women  [a  soft  wail  in  background] 
Hiawatha!    Hiawatha! 

Hiawatha 

Thus  said  Manitou,  the  mighty: 
"From  the  East,  the  Land  of  Morning, 
Come  the  Palefaces,  the  Black  Robes, 
With  strange  knowledge  in  their  keeping. 

[112] 


Photograph   by    A.   J.    White 


INDIAN     BRAVE,     FROM     THE     HISTORICAL     PAGEANT     OF 
SCHENECTADY 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

Other  gods  they  bid  you  worship. 
Strange  new  ways  they  bid  you  follow. 
From  the  meadows  and  the  rivers 
Float  the  echoes  of  their  building — 
All  the  building  of  strange  wigwams 
Such  as  you  have  never  fashioned. 
As  their  hearth-fire  groweth  stronger 
Yours  diminisheth  and  weakens; 
As  their  hearth-fire  leaps  and  dances 
Yours  must  fade  to  graying  ashes. 
From  the  east,  the  Land  of  Sunrise, 
They  have  come,  the  strange  Palefaces. 
To  the  west,  the  Land  of  Sunset, 
Turn  your  eyes,  0  Hiawatha!" 

Indian  Women  [wailing  softly] 
Wahanowin!    Hiawatha  I 

Hiawatha 

But  before  I  go,  my  brothers, 
I  have  words  to  say  in  parting. 

[The  chieftains  who  are  sitting  in 
council  rise  as  they  are  addressed. 
Then  sit  again.] 
[115] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

You,  the  Pawnees  and  the  Blackfeet, 
Keep  contentment  in  your  wigwams. 
See  your  tribes-folk  do  not  wrangle, 
Live  in  peace  with  one. another, 
Peace  and  plenty.     I  have  spoken. 

Shoshones'  great  chieftain,  harken! 
Govern  all  your  people  wisely. 
Be  a  light  unto  the  nations. 
Light  is  wisdom.     I  have  said  it. 

You,  the  chief  of  the  Dacotahs, 
See  your  people  live  in  honor. 
Let  their  word  be  feared  and  trusted 
By  the  nations.     I  have  said  it. 

Omahas*  great  chieftain,  listen! 
Teach  your  people  that  the  war-drum 
Is  not  better  than  the  peace-pipe 
Unless  war  is  truly  needed. 
Grow  and  prosper.     I  have  said  it. 

You,  the  people  called  Ojibway, 
Keep  alive  your  nation's  valor, 
Keep  alive  the  old  traditions 
As  a  fire  before  your  wigwams.' 
Truth  and  justice — seek  these  always. 
These  remember.     I  have  spoken. 
[ii61' 


THE  PASSING  OF  HIAWATHA 

[Js  Hiawatha  has  been  speaking 
the  last  lines  to  the  overture  of 
*' Hiawatha  s  Departure, ^^  by  Cole- 
ridge Taylor,  there  appear  at  right 
mystic  figures  clothed  in  the  pale  and 
deeper  rose  of  sunset.  They  weave 
a  mysterious  dance  with  gestures 
that  call  and  beckon.] 

Star  of  Springtime  [fearfully] 

Who  are  these  that  steal  upon  us? 
Who  are  these  that  wave  and  beckon? 

OWEENEE 

'Tis  the  Spirits  of  the  Sunset 
Come  to  summon  Hiawatha. 

The  First  Spirit  [calling  mystically] 

Hiawatha ! 

[Her  voice  echoes  faintly  like  a  bell- 
chime.] 

Hiawatha 
I  am  ready. 

The  Tribe 

Do  not  leave  us,  Hiawatha. 
[117I 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Hiawatha 

Fare  you  well,  O  much-loved  people, 
As  I  pass  you  will  pass  also 
When  the  Sunset  Spirits  call  you. 

The  Tribe 

Fare  you  well,  O  Hiawatha. 
Never  shall  your  tribe  forget  you. 

The  Women  [wailing  softly] 
Hiawatha!     Hiawatha! 

[Hiawatha  follows  The  Spirits  of 
the  Sunset,  and  they  dis appear , 
moving  before  him  in  the  distance, 
he  following,] 

The  Chief  of  the  Dacotahs  [gravely] 
Come  and  pray  to  the  Great  Spirit. 

[Exeunt  Omnes,  background,  the  men 
first,  the  women  next,  then  the  maid- 
ens, and  last  of  all  the  children.] 


DAME  GREEL  O'  PORTLAND  TOWN 


This  play  was  the  seventh  episode  in  the 
Historical  Pageant  of  Portland,  Maine,  given  on 
the  Eastern  Promenade  of  that  city  as  a  municipal 
civic  celebration  July  4,  191 3.  Since  first  writing 
the  play  has  undergone  several  changes.  In  the 
first  place,  in  Portland  it  was  given  out  of  doors, 
with  greensward  underfoot  and  pine-trees  and 
the  Atlantic  Ocean  for  a  background.  It  repre- 
sented the  inn  yard  of  Dame  Greers  tavern,  and 
not  the  interior — an  inn  yard  supplied  with  chairs 
and  tables  where  visitors  could  talk  and  bask  in 
the  sun,  served  by  Dame  Alice  and  her  servant- 
boys.  In  rehearsal  it  was  found  that  the  acoustics 
of  the  vast  amphitheater  in  which  the  pageant  was 
given,  and  which  easily  seated  twenty-five  thou- 
sand people,  made  it  advisable  to  cut  all  dialogue 
to  a  minimum.  Therefore,  the  minuet  and  the 
chatter  of  the  colonial  maids  was  transferred  to 
a  scene  welcoming  Gov.  John  Hancock  and 
Dorothy  Quincy  Hancock,  which  occurred  later 
in  the  pageant,  and  in  their  place  was  substituted 
a  meeting  of  citizens — men,  women,  and  children 
— assembled  in  Dame  Greel's  yard — a  scene  im- 
[121] 


possible  to  convey  on  the  average  amateur  stage, 
where  casts  seldom  run  to  more  than  seventy-five 
or  a  hundred  persons,  but  easy  enough  to  manage 
on  a  stage  such  as  that  of  Portland,  with  a  thou- 
sand pageant  players  to  draw  from.  Dame  Greel 
was  one  of  the  most  famous  women  tavern-keepers 
of  her  day,  a  true  patriot  whom  history  represents 
as  culling  cannon-balls  while  the  bombardment  of 
Portland  was  going  on,  picking  them  up  on  a  huge 
shovel  and  setting  them  to  cool,  that  they  might 
later  be  remelted  into  bullets  for  the  American 
army. 


DAME    GREEL  O'   PORTLAND 
TOWN^ 

CHARACTERS: 

Dame  Alice  Greel 
Polly     \  Mr.  Preston  \ 

jr.       Maia^of  PonlandTown  ^^_  ^^     Tories 

Abigail  /  Mr.  Norton  / 

Mr.  Preble  (Chairman  of  the  Committee  of  Safety) 
Mr.  Fox  \ 

Mr.  Mayo  >  Members  of  the  Committee  of  Safety 

Mr.  Bradbury  ) 

American  Messenger  British  Messenger 

Nat  \ 
Tack  f 
WiLi  I  ^""  ^^^^  ^^°  serve  Dame  Alice  Greel 

Tom  / 

Time — Summer  ^  177 S- 

Place — Dame  Alice  Greel's  tavern  at  Portland, 
Maine.  A  room  wainscoted  in  dark  woodwork. 
Smoke-stained  walls  and  rafters.  A  large  door 
in  background,  with  windows  each  side  of  it, 
A  door  down  stage,  right.  Another  door  up 
^Copyright,  1913,  by  Constance  D'Arcy  MacKay. 
[123  I 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

stage,  right.  These  lead  to  other  parts  of  the 
house,  A  wide-mouthed  chimney  at  right,  with 
a  spark  of  fire.  On  the  chimney-shelf  pewter 
candlesticks  and  pewter  plates.  A  musket  hung 
above  these,  with  a  powder-horn.  A  serving- 
table  against  the  left  wall,  with  a  pewter  flagon 
and  a  dozen  pewter  cups  on  a  tray.  Other 
pieces  of  pewter  and  silverware. 

At  the  rise  of  the  curtain  Tom  is  sweeping  the 
hearth  and  yawning.  Enter  from  door  at  upper 
right  Dame  Greel,  a  brisk,  bright-eyed  capable 
woman  of  five-and-thirty .  She  at  once  cuffs 
Tom,  takes  the  broom  from  him,  and  wields  it 
herself. 

Dame  Greel.  Be  brisk,  you  young  laggard! 
There's  the  silver  and  pewter  to  polish.  Get  to 
thy  labor  and  stop  yawning  1  \He  goes,  gets  silver 
and  rag,  and  sits  down  to  polish.]  Here  you  are 
with  breakfast  over  and  the  sleep  scarce  out  o' 
your  eyes.  [Polly  opens  the  door,  background,  en- 
ters and  courtesies.  Dame  Greel  courtesies  also.] 
Give  you  good  morrow,  Polly  Upton.  What 
brings  you  out  so  early? 

Polly.  Can  any  lie  in  bed  when  the  thought  of 

trouble  is  abroad  in  the  land  ?     A  harbor  town  is  a 

dangerous  place  for  good  Americans  these  days. 

We  can  rise  to  the  peril  on  land,  but  'tis  hard  to 

[124] 


Photograph  by  Jessie  Tarbox  Seals 


DAME     CREEL     O      PORTLAND    TOWN,     FROM     THE     HISTORICAL 
PAGEANT  OF   PORTLAND,    MAINE 


DAME  GREEL  O'   PORTLAND  TOWN 

withstand  the  peril  by  sea.  No  one  knows  what 
that  treacherous  Captain  Mowatt,  who  once 
threatened  us,  may  do.  Rumor  says  he  may 
appear  any  day  in  these  waters. 

[She  has  left  the  door  wide  open 
behind  her,  and  there  enter  through 
it  Prue,  Janice,  and  Abigail,  all 
maidens  of  sixteen  or  seventeen. 
They  courtesy  to  Dame  Greel,  who 
hows  to  them  in  turn.] 

Abigail.  Good  morrow,  Dame  Greel. 

Dame  Greel  [to  Abigail].  Good  morrow.  [To 
the  others.]     Good  morrow. 

Janice.  One  would  think  the  world  was  all 
serene  to  see  your  face. 

Dame  Greel.  The  face  is  a  bad  place  to  wear 
your  troubles.     I  keep  mine  in  my  heart. 

Prue.  I  try  to.     But  they're  always  escaping. 

Dame  Greel.  What  is  it  now? 

Prue.  Oh,  it  discourages  me  to  think  how 
little  women  can  do  when  anything  momentous 
happens. 

Dame  Greel.  D'ye  call  what  we  do  little? 

Prue  [in  a  sweet,  childish  voice].  We  have  no 
strength  at  all. 

Dame  Greel.  We've  the  strength  of  good 
[127] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

sound  wits  if  we  want  to  use  *em.  And  that's  as 
good  as  the  strength  o*  muscle  any  day. 

Prue.  Oh,  I  mean  things  like — like  helping  our 
Committee  of  Safety.  They've  been  trying  for 
three  days  to  convey  a  store  of  ammunition  to 
Mr.  Fox's  cellar,  and  they  haven't  succeeded  yet. 

Dame  Greel  [with  spirit].  What's  to  prevent 
'em? 

Prue  [wide-eyed  and  with  impressiveness].  Dame 
Alice,  don't  you  know  that  Mr.  Preston  lives  right 
next  door  to  Mr.  Fox — Sam  Preston,  the  greatest 
Tory  in  Portland  ? 

Janice.  I  never  saw  the  beat  of  these  Tories  for 
getting  in  the  way.  They're  always  passing  when 
you  least  expect  'em. 

Dame  Greel  [as  she  dusts  hearth-shelf  and  its 
belongings].  Or  wasting  their  days  in  idleness. 
Faith,  they're  in  and  out  all  day  long,  Preston  and 
Norton,  Carlyle  and  Wynne.  Tories,  every  one 
of  'em. 

Janice.  Here? 

Dame  Greel.  Yes,  here. 

Polly.  Oh,  Janice,  if  we  could  only  keep  them 
here  awhile  the  ammunition  might  be  moved, 
and  Dame  Greel  could  send  word  to  Mr.  Fox, 
and — 

Prue,  Janice,  Abigail.   But  how?     But  how? 

Polly  [her  head  on  one  side,  regarding  her  likeness 

[128] 


DAME  GREEL  O'  PORTLAND  TOWN 

171  a  pewter  plate].  Well,  we're  not  so  ill  to  look  at, 
when  it  comes  to  that! 

Dame  Greel  [briskly].  Umph!  Those  Tories 
will  need  more  anchor  than  a  pretty  face,  Fll  war- 
rant you. 

Polly  [excitedly].  Oh,  tell  us,  Dame  Greel.  Tell 
us!  [What  other  anchor?  [Dropping  her  voice.] 
D*ye  mean — liquor? 

Dame  Greel  [practically].  Lud!  No!  Liquor 
sets  folk  drifting  J  [With  a  nod  of  certainty.]  I 
mean  a  heel-and-toe  anchor. 

Prue.  Dancing!  Surelyyou  don't  mean  J<27zaw^.<^ 

Dame  Greel.  I  surely  do.  And  Tom  can  pick 
at  a  fiddle  monstrous  fine;  can't  'ee,  Tom? 

pToM  nods.  Drops  his  cleaning. 
From  lower  shelf  of  table  takes  out  a 
€ddle  just  as  from  door  in  background 
enter  Mr.  Carlyle,  Mr.  Preston, 
Mr.  Norton,  and  Mr.  Wynne, 
young  Tories  very  foppish  in  their 
appearance,  with  a  great  showing  of 
buckles  and  ruffles.  They  have  gay, 
light,  easy  manners.  Their  bows  at 
seeing  the  young  ladies  are  of  the 
most  courtly.  The  girls,  for  their 
part,  courtesy  to  the  floor.  Dame 
Greel  only  half  etches  one.] 
8  [129] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

Mr.  Preston  [gaily].  What's  this  I  hear  of 
fiddling? 

Mr.  Norton  [to  Dame  Greel,  indicating  the 
young  ladies].  Why  didn't  you  tell  us  you  kept  a 
flower-garden? 

Mr.  Wynne  [looking  at  them  with  dandified  air], 
Roses  are  ever  my  favorites. 

Polly.  Best  beware  of  thorns! 

Mr.  Preston.  But  what's  this  I  hear  of  fid- 
dling? 

Polly.  We're  trying  to  persuade  Tom  to  play 
for  us.  We're  all  mad  to  learn  the  newest  steps 
from  London. 

Mr.  Carlyle  [eagerly].  And  we're  all  mad  to 
teach  them,  I  do  assure  you! 

Prue  [primly].  'Tis  most  fortunate! 

[Tables  and  chairs  are  moved  back. 
Tom  begins  to  play  a  minuet."^  The 
sound  of  the  music  attracts  Jack, 
who  enters  from  right.  Dame  Greel 
motions  to  him.  The  dancers  are  too 
engrossed  to  perceive  her.] 

Dame  Greel  [giving  paper  to  Jack].  Take  this 
to  Mr.  Fox,  and  briskly.  Let  none  stop  you  on 
the  way. 

*  Beethoven's  "  Minuet  in  G." 
[130] 


DAME  GREEL  O'  PORTLAND  TOWN 

[Exit  Jack  by  door  upper  right. 
Dame  Greel  sits  by  hearth,  knitting 
tranquilly.  The  dance  continues  to 
the  end,  then  stops  with  a  grand 
flourish.] 

Abigail.  La!  I  do  believe  Fve  got  it!  You're 
a  fine  teacher,  Mr.  Carlyle. 

Mr.  Carlyle  [pleased  at  her  words].  With  an 
apt  pupil! 

[The  young  ladies  move  toward  the 
door]. 
t 
Mr.  Preston  [to  Polly].  You're  not  leaving  us 
desolate  ? 

Polly  [impishly].  Well,  if  any  one  should  offer 
to  see  us  home  or — 

Tories  [in  unison,  and  gaily].  We  all  do!  We 
all  do! 

Polly  [with  her  lowest,  most  roguish  courtesy]. 
Then  there'll  be  no  refusals  on  our  part. 

Mr.  Preston  [delighted].  Gad!     D'ye  mean — 

[Laughing  and  talking  in  pantomime, 
they  exeunt,  Polly  cleverly  managing 
so  that  she  is  last.  She  gives  a 
meaning  look  over  her  shoulder  at 
Dame  Greel.  Immediately  the 
[131] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

door  at  lower  left  opens  cautiouslyy 
and  Mr.  Bradbury,  a  young  pa- 
triot of  twenty  or  thereabout,  sticks 
his  head  in.] 

Mr.  Bradbury.  Dame  Greel!  Hush!  Quiet! 
The  ammunition  is  moved,  and  the  Committee  of 
Safety  will  hold  a  meeting  here  without  delay. 

Dame  Greel  [astonished].  Heaven  bless  us! 

Mr.  Bradbury.  It  may  lose  you  some  of  your 
Tory  trade. 

Dame  Greel.  Lose  it,  and  welcome! 

[Exit  Bradbury,  who  has  not  strayed 
from  door.  Instantly  Dame  Greel 
is  all  animation.  She  claps  her 
hands  loudly,  and  the  inn  hoys  run 
in  in  answer  to  her  summons,  from 
right.] 

Dame  Greel.  Be  brisk  with  the  tables  and 
chairs!  Some  gentlemen  will  soon  be  here. 
[Table  and  chairs  are  put  to  rights.]  Are  you  shod 
with  lead,  Nat  Tompkins?  Bring  on  that  chair, 
and  quickly!  Laggards,  laggards,  laggards,  every 
one  of  you.  I  can't  do  my  work  for  seeing  that 
you  do  yours.  [She  brings  pewter  tankard  and  cups 
to  table.]  Steady  with  that  bowl.  Jack.  Don't 
[132] 


DAME  GREEL  O'  PORTLAND  TOWN 

drop  it.  [The  boys,  all  save  Tom,  having  finished 
their  tasks,  exeunt,  right.  Dame  Greel  goes  to 
shake  her  duster  out  the  front  door,  carrying  her 
broom  with  her.  As  she  goes  Tom  attempts  to  take  a 
drink  out  of  the  pewter  flagon.  Dame  Greel  turns 
and  sees  hi^n,  darts  after  him.  There  is  a  brief  game 
of  cat  and  mouse.]  Aha!  You  thought  I  would  not 
see  you!  I'll  make  you  smart  for  that!  [Holding 
her  broom,  she  chases  him  around  the  table.  He  hides 
under  it.]  You  young  villain!  [It  is  in  this  posi- 
tion that  the  Committee  of  Safety,  who  now  enter 
from  background,  find  them.]  Beg  pardon,  sirs.  I 
did  not  hear  you  coming.  Good  day,  Mr.  Preble. 
Good  day,  Mr.  Fox.  The  table  is  ready,  sirs. 
[Exeunt  Dame  Greel  and  Tom,  right.  Men 
gather  about  table.] 

Mr.  Fox.  Friends,  men  of  the  Committee  of 
Safety,  we  are  gathered  here  to  decide  and  to 
report  on  the  situation  in  our  town. 

Mr.  Preble.  I  am  in  hopes  that  the  spirit 
of  our  American  Minute  Men  v^ll  save  the 
country. 

Mr.  Fox.  "In  hopes!"  Good  heavens!  Give 
us  a  regular  government  or  we  are  undone! 
[An  American  Messenger  appears  in  doorway.] 
Here  comes  one  of  our  messengers.     What  news? 

[Enter  the  American  Messenger.] 
[133] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

American  Messenger  [panting].  The  worst  of 
news!  The  treacherous  Mowatt  is  in  the  harbor 
with  three  British  ships. 

Mr.  Mayo  [looking  out  the  door].  Here  comes  a 
British  messenger. 

[MowATT*s  messenger,  carrying  a 
letter  and  a  white  flag  of  truce,  ap- 
pears  in  doorway,  then  enters.  Mr. 
Preble  meets  him,  and  takes  the 
letter.     Reads.] 

Mr.  Preble.  "I  have  orders  to  execute  a  just 
punishmenton  the  town  of  Falmouth.  .  .  .  I  warn 
you  to  remove  without  delay.  .  .  .  The  officer 
who  will  deliver  this  letter  I  expect  to  return 
immediately,  unmolested.     H.  Mowatt." 

[While  the  letter  has  been  read  Dame 
Greel  and  the  four  inn  boys  enter 
cautiously  from  right,  up  stage,  and 
stand  there  motionless,  watching  all 
that  goes  forward.] 

Mr.  Preble.  Gentlemen,  what  do  you  say? 
Shall  we  give  in,  or  shall  the  war-ship  shell  the 
town.     What  do  you  say? 

Mr.  Fox.  I  say,  return  the  letter  to  Mowatt  and 
say  that  you  defy  him. 

[i34l 


DAME  GREEL  O'   PORTLAND  TOWN 

Omnes  [save  British  Messenger].  Aye!  Aye! 
[The  words  ruig  rousingly.] 

British  Messenger.  One  moment.  I  have 
Captain  Mowatt's  orders  to  say  that  if  you  will 
give  him  prisoners  and  all  the  firearms  which  the 
town  contains  he  will  spare  you.  If  not,  he  will 
open  fire  at  once.     Surrender  or  burn. 

Mr.  Preble  [turning].  Fellow-citizens,  you  have 
heard  Captain  Mowatt's  message.  What  do  you 
say? 

Mr.  Bradbury.  I  say  that  we  do  not  surrender. 

Mr.  Mayo.  I  say  let  him  burn  the  town  to 
ashes. 

Omnes  [except  the  British  Messenger].  I  say 
so,  too.  And  I!  And  I!  And  I!  [The  effect  is 
almost  that  of  a  cheer.] 

Mr.  Preble  [to  British  Messenger].  You 
have  heard  the  message,  sir.  Return  and  tell 
Captain  Mowatt  that  our  citizens  will  not  sur- 
render. 

British  Messenger.  Then  the  women  must 
leave  the  city. 

[Dame    Greel   steps  forwardy   her 
eyes  ablaze,  her  broom  in  hand.] 

Dame  Greel.  That's  right  for  the  women  with 
children,  but  you  tell  Captain  Mowatt  from  me 
that  ril  stay  here  in  spite  of  his  cannon-balls. 
[135] 


PLAYS  OF  THE   PIONEERS 

[Messenger  falls  back  a  step,  alarmed  at  her 
manner.  She  follows.]  I  defy  him  anH  the  whole 
British  navy! 


[She  brings  her  broom  down  with  a 
whack  on  the  British  Messenger. 
He  has  already  been  given  his  letter 
by  Mr.  Preble.  Now  he  turns  and 
Hees  for  his  life.  From  outside, 
faint  and  far,  the  notes  of  "  Yankee 
Doodle."  Dame  Greel  drops  her 
broom,  and,  snatching  her  bowls  and 
tankard  from  table,  presses  them  on 
Mr.  Bradbury.  He  asks,  "  What's 
this?"  amazedly.] 

Dame  Greel.  You'll  be  needing  pewter  for 
bullets,  if  you  run  short,  and  you  can  melt  them 
down.  I  like  to  think  of  my  old  jugs  singing 
through  the  air.  [Exeunt  the  Committee  of 
Safety  and  the  American  Messenger.  The 
notes  of  "Yankee  Doodle"  grow  stronger.]  Move 
my  table,  lads!  We  may  need  it  for  a  barricade. 
[She  takes  down  the  musket  and  powder-horn  from 
above  the  hearth.] 

Tom  [awed,  and  staring  at  her].  You're  not  going 
to  use  the  musket? 

Dame  Greel  [slinging  the  powder-horn  to  her 
[136] 


DAME  GREEL  O'  PORTLAND  TOWN 

tvaist  and  trying  the  lock  of  the  musket].  Did  ye 
think  that  dancing  was  all  we  women  could  do? 
Ha!  There's  learning  coming  to  you!  'Tis  the 
blood  o*  Maine  that  runs  in  my  veins,  my  lad. 
And  I  tell  you,  though  Maine  may  suffer,  she 
never  gives  up. 

[The  sound  of  "Yankee  Doodle" 
mingles  with  a  sudden  thunder  of 
musketry  as  Dame  Greel  moves 
through  the  door  in  background, 
shouldering  her  musket,  a  light  about 
her  face.] 


COSTUMING  THE  PLAYS 


COSTUMING  THE  PLAYS 

This  chapter  purposes  to  give  an  idea  of  how  to 
costume  the  following  plays  simply  and  effectively. 
It  will  deal  with  them  in  their  order  according  to 
the  list  given  in  the  table  of  contents. 

The  colors  of  the  costumes  in  "The  Pioneers" 
are  already  indicated  in  the  text.  Any  illustrated 
history  of  the  United  States  will  give  the  pictures 
of  Puritan  costumes.  The  material  used  may  be 
cambric,  with  the  glazed  side  turned  inward. 
Ordinary  low  black  shoes,  with  as  square  toes  as 
possible,  and  buckles  made  of  cardboard  covered 
with  dull-sWwtitd  paper.  Silkoline  (or  cheese- 
cloth) will  garb  The  Powers  of  the  Forest  and 
The  Powers  of  the  River.  See  that  it  hangs  in 
straight  Grecian  lines  and  is  not  bunchy.  There 
should  be  bloomers  and  a  straight  underdress  of 
silkoline  wide  enough  to  dance  in,  and  then  the 
overdress.  It  should  be  ankle-length,  without  a 
hem,  and  the  material  should  not  be  cut  too 
evenly.  A  prim  look  is  not  what  is  wanted. 
[141I 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

White  stockings  and  sandals  for  The  Powers  of 
the  River.  Tan  stockings  and  brown  sandals  for 
The  Powers  of  the  Forest.  On  no  account  should 
high-heeled  slippers  be  worn.  They  look  ridicu- 
lous. Care  should  be  taken  to  have  the  foot-gear 
as  nearly  alike  as  possible.  The  Mist  Maidens 
can  wear  white  cotton  crepe,  or  silkoline,  made 
in  the  same  manner  as  described  above.  All  the 
scarfs  should  be  chiffon.  Nothing  else  floats  as 
delicately  or  can  be  whipped  into  expression  as 
quickly  and  easily.  The  Gray  and  Brown  Ones 
of  the  Forest  wear  green  and  brown  cheese-cloth 
that  falls  straighter  and  tighter  than  the  other 
costumes  to  give  the  effect  of  an  animal  skin. 
They  wear  animal  heads  with  upstanding  wolfish 
ears,  tan  stockings  and  sandals.  Fever  wears 
scarlet  silkoline  and  foot-gear.  Famine  wears  gray 
of  the  same  material.  Death  wears  a  black  tight- 
fitting  suit  on  which  the  outline  of  a  skeleton  is 
either  painted  or  basted;    a  skull  mask. 

In  "The  Fountain  of  Youth"  the  Spaniards' 
costumes  of  silk,  velvet,  and  armor — the  former 
soiled  and  the  latter  dull — should  be,  if  possible, 
hired  from  a  costumer.  In  towns  where  a  full 
range  of  costumes  is  not  kept  garments  known 
as  a  "Captain  John  Smith"  outfit  may  be  sub- 
stituted for  the  real  thing.  Be  careful  that  they 
are  not  all  alike  in  color.  Other  costumes  may  be 
[142] 


COSTUMING  THE  PLAYS 

copied  from  Eggleston's  Illustrated  History  of  the 
United  States,  These,  of  course,  are  the  authentic 
ones.  The  Captain  John  Smith  is  of  a  much 
later  period,  and  should  only  be  used  "when  all 
signs  fail."  An  excellent  picture  of  Ponce  de  Leon 
will  be  found  in  The  History  of  the  United  States^ 
by  E.  Benjamin  Andrews.  The  Spirit  of  the 
Fountain  should  wear  white  Grecian  robes  of 
cotton  crepe  or  chifFon.  Both  hers  and  the  cos- 
tumes of  The  Daughters  of  the  Dawn  should  be 
made  according  to  the  directions  for  The  Powers 
of  the  Forest  found  in  "The  Pioneers."  The 
Guardian  of  the  Fountain  also  wears  white  stock- 
ings and  silver  sandals.  The  Daughters  of  the 
Dawn  wear  dawn-pink  silkoline,  both  pale  and 
rosy.  Their  hair  is  worn  unbound.  They  have 
white  stockings  and  white  sandals. 

In  "May-Day"  the  two  Puritan  maidens  wear 
cambric  with  the  unglazed  side  worn  outward,  and 
square-toed  shoes  with  buckles.  Gideon  may  wear 
a  Puritan  costume  of  either  wool  or  a  simulation 
of  wool  made  by  wearing  cambric  in  the  same 
fashion.  He  has  a  long  cloak.  (See  pictures  in 
the  best  illustrated  editions  of  PilgrirrCs  Progress^ 
also  in  histories  of  the  United  States.)  The  Fool 
wears  the  traditional  May-day  costume,  one-half 
of  which  is  bright  blue  and  the  other  half  bright 
yellow.  His  cap  jingles  with  bells,  and  there  are 
[143I 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

bells  placed  about  his  costume.  Robin  Hood 
wears  Lincoln  green.  Maid  Marian,  Lincoln 
green  also.  Cambric  of  the  right  shade,  unglazed 
side  outward,  will  be  found  useful  for  their  cos- 
tumes. For  the  other  costumes  good  pictures  of 
morris-dancers  should  be  copied. 

In  "The  Vanishing  Race"  the  Indian  men  wear 
tan-colored  tight-fitting  costumes  and  breech- 
clouts  preferably;  but,  since  civilization  had 
touched  their  race  at  that  time,  the  tan-colored 
trousered  Indian  suits  could  be  worn  if  preferred. 
They  could  be  simply  made  by  stitching  tan  fringe 
down  the  sides  of  tan  trousers  such  as  workmen 
wear  and  making  a  khaki  Indian  tunic  that  comes 
to  a  little  above  the  knee.  It  should  be  fringed 
a  little  at  the  sides  and  ends  and  painted  on  the 
breast  with  Indian  designs.  The  Indian  wigs  may 
be  hired  or  made  of  black  cheese-cloth  braided  into 
war-locks  and  fastened  to  a  tightly  fitting  skull- 
cap. The  feathers  and  head-gear  will  partly  hide 
the  wig.  Be  sure  that  the  Indians  are  not  guilty 
of  shoes.  If  not  moccasins,  have  tan  canvas 
tennis-shoes,  beaded.  The  costumes  for  the  In- 
dian women  and  maidens  may  also  be  made  of 
khaki,  fringed  and  beaded.  Good  ideas  for  these 
can  be  copied  from  The  Camp-Fire  GirVs  Booky 
which  can  be  had  from  Doubleday,  Page  &  Co., 
Garden  City,  New  York.  The  same  idea  for  foot- 
[144I 


COSTUMING  THE  PLAYS 

gear  that  the  men  have.  Striking  Indian  blankets 
can  be  made  from  canton  flannel.  The  costumes 
of  the  Dutch  settlers  can  be  found  in  illustrated 
histories  of  the  United  States.  They  are  sugges- 
tive of  the  Puritan  costumes.  Full  knee-breeches, 
coat  (belted  like  a  Norfolk  jacket),  and  collar  and 
cuffs.  Also  the  so-called  "pork-pie"  hats  with  a 
deep  brim,  made  of  black  felt.  Square-toed  shoes 
and  buckles.  The  same  long,  full  riding -cloaks 
as  those  of  the  Puritans.  The  Dutch  were  thrifty, 
as  goes  without  saying,  and  except  on  great  state 
occasions  did  not  indulge  in  silk,  velvet,  and 
satin.  Woolen  homespun  was  their  daily  wear. 
The  colors  for  these  pioneers  might  be,  Arent  van 
Curler,  forest  green;  Jan  Wemp,  dark  brown; 
Van  Valsen,  dark  blue;  Van  Slyck,  dark  plum. 
It  is  better  to  hire  these  costumes  at  a  costumer's. 
Sawara*s  costume  should  be  more  gorgeously 
painted  than  those  of  any  of  the  other  Indian 
women,  and  great  beads  and  pieces  of  burnished 
shell  should  be  strung  about  her  neck.  Her 
beaded  head-dress  should  be  scarlet  and  silver. 

In  "The  Passing  of  Hiawatha"  the  braves  and 
chieftains  wear  tight-fitting  Indian  suits  and  the 
customary  head -gear,  breech -clout,  beads,  and 
wampum.  Be  careful  that  their  faces  and  hands 
are  stained  brown.  All  the  young  braves  and  the 
chieftains  wear  war-bonnets.  For  other  details 
9  1 145  ] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

of  their  costume  see  notes  on  "The  Vanishing 
Race."  For  the  costumes  of  the  Indian  maidens 
and  women  see  the  notes  on  "The  Vanishing  Race" 
also.  For  directions  for  making  the  robes  of  The 
Spirits  of  the  Sunset  see  the  directions  for  costum- 
ing The  Powers  of  the  River  and  The  Powers  of 
the  Forest  in  "The  Pioneers."  Their  robes  are 
pale  pink  and  deeper  pink,  like  the  hues  of  sunset. 
They  carry  pink  chiffon  scarfs  in  their  dance,  which 
float  as  they  beckon.  Their  hair  is  worn  flying, 
and  they  have  white  stockings  and  white  sandals. 
For  "Dame  Greel  o'  Portland  Town"  colonial 
costumes  are  worn.  Dame  Greel  might  wear  a 
green  overdress  and  a  scarlet  petticoat.  In  this 
case  her  dress  should  be  the  only  one  with  a  hint 
of  scarlet,  which  is  a  strong  color  before  which 
other  colors  pale.  The  girls  should  wear  pretty 
flowered  muslins  of  varying  shades  of  rose,  pale 
blue,  pale  yellow,  and  lavender.  The  patriots 
(men)  should  wear  grays,  browns,  blues,  and 
their  suits  should  be,  if  possible,  plainly  made  and 
of  plain  material.  They  were  going  about  the 
business  of  every  day,  and  not  to  a  rout  or  ball. 
The  Tories  may  wear  clothes  that  are  a  trifle  finer 
and  suggest  fops.  They  may  be  in  shades  of  old 
rose,  dull  purple,  dark  green,  gray,  or  black. 
Remember  it  was  morning  in  a  small  harbor  town, 
not  a  state  occasion.  The  patriots  should  wear 
[146] 


COSTUMING  THE  PLAYS 

their  hair  in  unpowdered  queues,  the  Tories  should 
wear  theirs  powdered.  The  British  Messenger 
wears  a  full  white  wig;  ditto  the  American  Mes- 
senger. Dame  Greel  and  the  young  ladies  wear 
their  hair  pompadoured  but  unpowdered.  The 
British  and  American  Messengers  wear  full  mili- 
tary uniforms.  The  inn  boys  wear  loose  white 
shirts,  black  knee-breeches,  black  stockings,  and 
low  black  shoes.  Too  many  amateur  producers 
costume  their  colonial  scenes  as  if  all  the  partici- 
pants were  going  to  a  ball.  An  indoor  scene,  with 
people  busy  about  their  household  tasks,  will, 
through  the  mistakes  of  amateur  producers,  show 
its  players  costumed  in  peach-colored  velvet  and 
flowered  brocades,  utterly  destroying  the  atmos- 
phere that  their  costumes  were  meant  to  create. 
For  those  wishing  to  give  this  play  at  the  mini- 
mum of  expense  the  young  ladies  might  be  clad  in 
colonial  dresses  made  by  having  an  overdress  of 
cretonne  looped  over  a  petticoat  of  muslin  or 
one  summer  dress  looped  over  another.  With 
these  the  customary  white  fichu  is  worn.  The 
men's  costumes,  in  an  emergency,  might  be  made 
by  basting  back  ordinary  dress-coats,  and  apply- 
ing gold  braid,  cretonne  cuffs  and  collars,  and 
white  wrist  and  neck  ruffles.  Also,  of  course,  they 
wear  knee-breeches.  The  costumes  for  the  Mes- 
sengers would  undoubtedly  have  to  be  hired. 
[147] 


MUSIC 


MUSIC 

("The  Pioneers") 

1.  "Humoresque."    Dvorak. 

2.  "The  Pizzicato  Polka,"  from  the  "Ballet 
Sylvia."     Leo  Delibes. 

3.  "To  a  Water-lily,"  Edward  MacDowell; 
or  "Arabesque  2,"  Debussy. 

4.  "The  Hall  of  the  Mountain  King,"  from  the 
"Peer  Gynt"  Suite,  Grieg;  and  "The  Death  of 
Ase,"  from  the  same  Suite. 

5.  "Anitra's  Dance,"  from  the  "Peer  Gynt" 
Suite.     Greig. 

6.  "Melody  in  F."     Rubinstein. 

("The  Fountain  of  Youth") 

1.  "Spring  Song."     Mendelssohn. 

2.  "Idyllo."     Theodore  Lack. 

("May-Day") 

English  folk-dance  music  to  be  found  in  Folk 
Dances,  by  Elizabeth  Burchenal;    The  Folk  Dance 
[151I 


PLAYS  OF  THE   PIONEERS 

Book,  by  C.  Ward  Crampton;   and  The  Guild  of 
Play  Books,  edited  by  Curwen,  London,  England. 

("The  Vanishing  Race") 

1.  (Dance  of  Indian  maiden.)  "The  Chatter- 
ing Squaw."     Harvey  Worthington  Loomis. 

2.  "From  an  Indian  Lodge."  Edward  Mac- 
Dowell. 

3.  The  same. 

("The  Passing  of  Hiawatha") 

1.  "Passamaquoddy  Dance  Song"  and  "Music 
of  the  Calumet,"  from  "Legends  of  the  Redmen," 
Harvey  Worthington  Loomis;  also  "Prayer  to 
Manitou,"  Victor  Herbert. 

2.  (For  war-dance.)  "Apache  Indian  Scalp 
Song,"  John  Philip  Sousa,  from  "Airs  of  All 
Nations." 

3.  (For  Spirits  of  the  Sunset.)  Overture  to 
"Hiawatha's  Departure."     Coleridge  Taylor. 

("Dame  Greel  o'  Portland  Town") 

1.  Beethoven's  "Minuet  in  G." 

2.  "Yankee  Doodle." 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

("The  Pioneers") 

Eggleston's  History  of  the  United  States,  (Il- 
lustrated.) 

The  Indian  and  the  Pioneer,     Rose  N.  Yawger. 

("The  Fountain  of  Youth") 

Eggleston's  History  of  the  United  States.  (Il- 
lustrated.) 

Bancroft's  History  of  the  United  States. 

History  of  the  United  States.  E.  Benjamin 
Andrews.     (Illustrated.) 

("May-Day") 

Eggleston's  History  of  the  United  States.  (Il- 
lustrated.) 

Percival  Chubb's  Plays  and  Festivals. 

Folk  Festivals.     Mary  Needham. 

The  Festival  Book.     Jeanette  Lincoln. 

Folk  Dances  and  Singing  Games.  Elizabeth 
Burchenal. 

IiSSl 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

The  Folk  Dance  Book.     C.  Ward  Crampton. 
The  Guild  of  Play  Books.     Curwen  (London). 

("The  Vanishing  Race") 

Town  Records  of  Schenectady^  New  York, 

History  of  Albany  County. 

Historic  New  York  Towns.     Powell. 

History  of  the  United  States.  E.  Benjamin 
Andrews. 

The  Jesuits  in  North  America.     Parkman. 

The  Last  of  the  Mohicans.     Cooper. 

The  Indian  Tribes  of  the  United  States.  F.  S. 
Drake. 

Algic  Researches.     Schoolcraft. 

Proceedings  of  the  American  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science  (1881). 

"(The  Passing  of  Hiawatha") 

Hiawatha.     Longfellow. 

The  Story  of  the  Indian.     G.  B.  Grinnell. 

Blackfoot  Lodge  Tales.     G.  B.  Grinnell. 

La  Salle  and  the  Discovery  of  the  Great  West, 
Parkman. 

The  Jesuits  in  North  America.     Parkman. 

The  Myth  of  Hiawatha.     Schoolcraft. 

Stories  from    Indian    Wigwams   and   Northern 
Camp-fires.     E.  R.  Young. 
[156] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

("Dame  Greel  o'  Portland  Town") 

Historic  Towns  of  New  England.    Lyman  PowelL 

History  of  Portland.     William  Willis. 

Portland.     Neal. 

Portland  and  Vicinity.     Elwell. 

Journals   of  the   Rev.    Thomas   Smith   and  the 
Rev.  Silas  Deane.     Edited  by  William  Willis. 


PRODUCING   OUTDOOR    PAGEANTS 
AND    PLAYS 


PRODUCING  OUTDOOR 
PAGEANTS  AND   PLAYS 

Three  kinds  of  outdoor  drama  are  at  present 
growing  more  and  more  wide-spread  in  this  coun- 
try—  the  pageant,  the  masque,  and  the  outdoor 
play.  The  historical  pageant  shows  in  a  series 
of  chronological  scenes  (or  episodes,  as  they  are 
technically  called)  the  Hfe  of  a  given  community 
or  city  from  its  first  settlement  down  to  the 
problems  of  the  present  day.  It  may  have  ten 
or  sixteen  scenes,  or  perhaps  only  six,  and  from 
three  hundred  to  several  thousand  pageant  play- 
ers and  from  one  thousand  to  fifty  thousand 
spectators.  It  must  have  special  music,  costumes, 
properties,  and — if  it  be  given  at  night — special 
lighting  effects.  The  same  holds  true  of  the 
masque,  a  form  of  drama  conveying  a  constructive 
idea  rather  than  the  concrete  history  of  a  place. 
Lastly,  there  is  the  outdoor  play,  familiar  from 
time  immemorial.  The  play  may  need  a  "coach," 
lo  [  i6i  ] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

but  the  pageant  and  masque  need  more  than  a 
coach — they  demand  expert  leadership,  a  pageant 
or  masque  director  who  will  write  the  pageant 
book,  co-ordinating  spoken  speech,  pantomime, 
music,  and  dancing,  and  who  will  afterward  direct 
the  pageant  players.  But  as  there  are  many  com- 
munities, as  well  as  colleges,  normal  schools,  and 
high  schools,  not  always  able,  for  monetary  or 
other  reasons,  to  avail  themselves  of  such  director- 
ship, the  pageant-play  will  give  scope  for  pageant 
effects  on  a  small  scale — a  scale  which  any  amateur 
director  may  attempt,  using  one,  two,  or  three 
pageant-plays  according  to  the  conditions  that 
are  to  be  met. 

The  predominant  factor  in  staging  an  outdoor 
play  or  pageant  is  the  selection  of  the  pageant 
stage.  To  this  all  other  conditions  are  subordi- 
nate. In  selecting  the  stage  the  three  most  impor- 
tant things  to  be  considered  are  suitability,  ac- 
cessibility, and  picturesqueness.  By  suitability 
is  meant  that  the  outdoor  stage  shall  be  an  ap- 
propriate setting  for  the  material  on  hand,  that 
it  shall  have  a  good  background,  entrances,  and 
exits.  If  the  pageant  or  pageant-play  is  supposed 
to  be  something  that  will  interest  not  only  the 
community  in  which  it  is  given,  but  near-by  com- 
munities, then  it  must  be  within  easy  distance 
of  car-lines  or  a  road.  The  stage  should  be 
[162] 


OUTDOOR  PAGEANTS  AND  PLAYS 

picturesque,  or  should  be  made  so.  Nothing  can 
so  mar  a  performance  as  an  unsuitable  stage.  Of 
course  a  large  pageant  requires  a  large  stage, 
while  a  small  pageant  may  be  made  to  look  larger 
than  it  really  is  by  means  of  its  background  and 
general  stage-setting.  This  is  also  true  of  plays. 
A  medium  large  stage  is  required  for  a  play  with  a 
large  cast,  while  a  play  with  a  small  cast  should  be 
produced  on  a  smaller  and  shallower  stage  in 
order  to  get  the  best  effects.  This  does  not  mean 
that  the  stage  should  be  cramped.  It  is  merely  a 
warning  against  having  the  pageant  players  look 
too  scattered  and  inadequate — an  effect  often  un- 
consciously produced  by  having  too  deep  a  stage 
or  too  few  people  on  too  spreading  a  surface.  Of 
course  in  a  scene  that  is  to  convey  a  sense  of  deso- 
lation or  loneHness  a  few  people  appearing  on  a 
large  stage  will  give  the  right  effect.  But  in  gen- 
eral it  is  wise  to  avoid  giving  a  sense  of  too  few 
people.  A  stage  that  is  too  large  can  have  trees 
set  in,  right,  left,  and  background,  which  will 
bring  the  action  within  a  smaller  compass.  A 
large  stage  is  approximately  one  hundred  feet 
long  by  nfty  feet  deep,  and  a  small  stage  fifty  feet 
long  and  twenty  or  thirty  feet  deep. 

The  ideal  outdoor  stage  is  a  level  greensward 
with  trees  right,  left,  and  background.     If  pos- 
sible, there  should  be  no  trees  on  the  stage  itself, 
[163] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

which  should  be  left  free  for  dancing.  In  front  of 
the  stage  should  be  a  gradual  slope  where  the 
audience  can  sit  on  the  grass  or  where  a  grand- 
stand can  be  erected.  But  such  spots  combining 
all  requirements  are  rare,  save  in  college  grounds, 
and  the  amateur  director  must  cope  with  all  sorts 
of  problems  before  an  adequate  stage  can  be  se- 
lected. Acoustics  must  be  reckoned  with  in 
selecting  a  play  or  pageant  site.  The  orchestra 
and  voices  of  the  players  must  be  considered. 
The  committee  choosing  such  a  site  must  try  to  see 
how  voices  will  carry  before  ultimately  deciding. 
Those  who  have  the  play  in  charge  need  scarcely 
be  warned  against  selecting  a  spot  with  an  echo, 
or  a  place  where  the  clang  of  street-cars  or  trains  is 
apt  to  drown  the  voices  of  the  players.  A  lake 
or  bay  for  a  background  vista  is  lovely  to  look  at, 
but  makes  things  very  difficult  for  an  orchestra 
unless  a  sounding-board  can  be  provided.  Even 
then  an  augmented  orchestra  must  be  used,  or  a 
band  will^  be  found  to  give  the  most  satisfaction. 
The  sun  is  also  a  factor  to  be  reckoned  with.  It 
is  perhaps  more  difficult  to  have  the  audience  sit 
facing  it  than  to  have  the  players  face  it,  since 
they  can  shift  their  positions,  and  the  audience 
cannot.  To  have  the  stage  face  north  or  south  is 
best. 

In  regard  to  seats:   there  are  many  parks  and 
[164] 


OUTDOOR  PAGEANTS  AND  PLAYS 

athletic  fields  where  grand -stands  have  already 
been  erected  and  are  ready  and  waiting  for  an 
audience.  But  the  stage  in  front  of  them  is  usu- 
ally flat  and  treeless  and  devoid  of  grass.  The 
thing  to  be  done  in  this  case  is  to  map  out  the 
size  the  stage  is  to  be  and  then  put  (pine)  trees  in 
the  background  and  at  right  and  left  sides.  A 
quantity  of  newly  cut  grass,  kept  dampened  till 
the  last  moment,  can  be  strewn  flatly  over  the 
stage  before  the  performance  begins.  This  will 
take  away  from  the  arid  look.  If  enough  trees 
cannot  be  had,  or  if  there  are  no  trees,  forest  screens 
can  be  constructed.  These  are  made  by  having 
posts  some  six  feet  high  run  into  the  ground  and 
meshed  ** chicken-wire"  fastened  to  them.  Into 
this  chicken-wire  should  be  woven  tree-branches, 
vines,  green  festoons — anything  that  will  make  a 
good  screen.  As  to  the  placing  of  the  screens — 
there  should  be  two  at  the  right  of  the  stage,  two 
at  the  left,  and  a  long  one  across  background. 
Slight  spaces  between  them  will  leave  room  for 
exits  and  entrances.  Nothing  so  destroys  the 
illusion  of  a  play  or  pageant  as  to  see  the  charac- 
ters who  are  to  take  part  in  it  loitering  on  the 
edges  of  the  stage  before  it  is  their  turn  to  appear. 
Therefore,  if  the  forest  screens  mask  the  stage  but 
do  not  sufficiently  hide  the  players  once  they  have 
left  the  scene,  construct  two  more,  thus: 
[165I 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 


Audience 

These  screens  are  valuable  not  only  in  them- 
selves, but  in  the  way  they  can  be  used  to  augment 
effects.  They  make  a  sparse  background  of  trees 
look  denser,  they  are  invaluable  for  making  a 
shallow  stage  suggest  depth,  and  they  are  an  ad- 
mirable foil  for  costumes,  showing  up  color  effects 
wonderfully  well.  In  places  where  acoustics  are 
bad  they  act  as  a  sounding-board.  They  can  be 
used  to  hide  blots  on  the  landscape.  They  can 
even  suggest  a  primeval  forest.  It  should  be  re- 
membered that  a  background  of  trees,  real  or 
artificial,  accomplishes  the  same  purpose  as  a 
backdrop  in  a  theater.  A  word  should  be  said 
here  about  the  posts  to  which  the  wire  is  fastened. 
They  must,  of  course,  be  painted  brown  or  green  or 
wrapped  with  brown  burlap.  If  the  dressing-room 
tents  are  near  the  stage,  and  their  white  or  khaki 
canvas  intrudes  on  the  eye  of  the  audience,  a  forest 
screen  will  again  be  found  useful,  and  the  top  of  the 
tents  can  be  loosely  covered  with  green  boughs  or 
leaves.  This  has  been  done  in  several  pageants. 
[i66] 


OUTDOOR  PAGEANTS  AND  PLAYS 

In  a  prairie  town  where  not  even  trees  could 
be  had  as  background  the  director  used  the  wire 
screens,  and  an  hour  or  so  before  the  performance 
began  they  were  covered  with  dark-green  unglazed 
musHn  over  which  were  fastened  festoons  of  Den- 
nison's  tissue-paper  garlands. 

Forest  screens  made  with  actual  tree-branches 
not  only  make  glad  the  waste  places  but  can  be 
used  effectively  on  the  lawns  of  private  estates  and 
country  clubs  for  small  masques  and  pageants. 

If  an  outdoor  play  with  a  scene  suggesting  a 
forest  is  given  in  a  spot  where  unsightly  buildings 
intrude,  have  tall,  slender  poles,  wound  with  green, 
and  have  ropes  of  evergreen  and  strips  of  dark- 
green  bunting  strung  between  them.  (For  these 
poles  fishing-rods  covered  in  green  are  not  a  bad 
device,  but  they  must  be  firmly  placed.) 

As  is  well  known,  the  rehearsals  of  an  outdoor 
play  or  pageant  should  take  place  in  a  hall  or 
large  room  that  has  a  good  floor  for  dancing 
before  they  are  taken  into  the  open.  The  dances 
should  be  rehearsed  separately  from  the  play, 
dancers  and  players  to  come  together  for  the  first 
time  only  when  the  rehearsals  are  well  under  way. 
Those  who  are  attempting  outdoor  dramatics 
for  the  first  time  will  find  it  a  great  aid  to  both 
player  and  director  to  go  to  the  outdoor  stage  at 
the  second  or  third  rehearsal  when  the  play  is  still 
[167] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

in  the  rough  and  get  an  idea  of  stage  proportions, 
exits,  entrances,  grouping,  that  can  be  kept 
clearly  in  mind  while  further  rehearsals  are  going 
on  indoors.  Too  great  stress  cannot  be  laid  on  the 
value  of  this.  The  dance-director  and  those  who 
are  to  dance  on  the  outdoor  stage  should  have  this 
early  opportunity  of  approximating  how  many 
bars  of  music  it  will  take  to  bring  them  to  the 
part  of  the  stage  on  which  their  dance  is  to  begin. 
They  will  know  whether  the  introduction  needs  to 
be  repeated  or  not,  for,  unless  otherwise  stated, 
the  music  is  supposed  to  begin  before  they  enter 
to  build  up  the  atmosphere  of  their  scene. 

Of  course  the  indoor  rehearsals  will  be  entirely 
with  piano,  or  piano  and  violin,  but  if  possible 
there  should  be  a  rehearsal  with  orchestra  for  the 
dancers  alone  before  the  full-dress  rehearsal  with 
orchestra.  While  rehearsing  it  should  be  kept  in 
mind  that  an  outdoor  play,  far  more  than  an  indoor 
play,  must,  in  case  any  of  the  words  are  lost,  make 
a  series  of  telling  pictures,  must  constantly  appeal 
to  the  eye.  This  quality  is  obtained  not  merely 
through  care  in  the  grouping  of  the  principals,  but 
through  the  action  of  the  supernumeraries.  See 
that  the  latter  are  well  grouped,  that  they  form 
a  still  background  where  such  a  background  is 
needed,  or  that  they  are  vibrant  and  mirror  passing 
emotions  when  such  emotions  need  to  be  empha- 
ri68l 


OUTDOOR  PAGEANTS  AND  PLAYS 

sized.  The  supernumeraries  stand  in  the  same 
relation  to  simple  outdoor  drama  as  that  of  the 
Greek  chorus  to  the  old  Greek  drama,  repeating 
and  accenting  through  pose  and  gesture  pity,  rage, 
curiosity,  grief,  interest,  and  a  hundred  other 
feelings.  This  is  particularly  true  of  symbolic 
scenes  that  depend  so  largely  for  their  effect  on 
their  supernumerary  grouping.  There  is  nothing 
like  a  long  mirror  as  an  aid  to  amateurs  in  helping 
them  see  the  effects  to  be  gained.  If  the  neophyte 
dryads,  spirits,  or  votive  maidens  will  rehearse 
individually  before  a  mirror  when  they  are  alone 
it  will  help  them  to  see  their  mistakes  at  once  and 
guide  them  toward  the  right  way  of  doing  group 
work. 

A  word  should  be  said  here  about  having  enough 
supernumeraries.  If  possible  the  amateur  di- 
rector should  see  that  there  are  large  groups  of 
Mist  Maidens,  Powers  of  the  River,  or  whatever 
other  symbolic  figures  are  needed.  Twenty  Mist 
Maidens  and  twenty  River  Maidens  will  be  just 
enough  for  a  small  stage,  but  this  number  can  be 
run  up  to  thirty  or  forty  with  an  increasingly  good 
effect.  Always  enlist  the  services  of  fifty  per  cent, 
more  supernumeraries  than  are  needed.  There  are 
always  unforeseen  reasons  that  will  cause  people 
to  drop  out,  and  it  is  well  to  have  others  ready  to 
fill  their  places.  If  the  groups  of  adults  are  not 
[169) 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

large  numerically  add  children  to  the  list  as  little 
Water  Sprites  or  Daughters  of  the  Dawn,  costum- 
ing them  exactly  like  the  other  dancers.  They 
will  help  to  fill  in  the  group  and  add  to  its  charm. 

There  should  be  a  rule,  rigidly  enforced,  that 
on  the  hour  of  the  performance  none  of  the  players 
shall  be  seen  unless  it  is  time  for  them  to  appear. 
Many  amateurs  have  an  annoying  habit  of  coming 
to  the  edge  of  the  "forest"  which  encircles  the  out- 
door stage  and  from  that  vantage-point  they  peep 
through  and  watch  the  progress  of  their  fellow- 
players  before  it  is  time  for  their  own  cues.  They 
are  often  perfectly  visible  to  the  audience  and  very 
disconcerting  to  those  who  are  on  the  stage. 
Even  if  they  cannot  be  clearly  seen  by  the  au- 
dience, glints  of  bright  color,  the  flutter  of  a  veil 
or  feather  through  the  trees  draws  attention  to  a 
spot  where  it  was  not  meant  to  be  drawn.  People 
say,  "Oh,  little  things  like  this  don't  count!" 
But  little  things  like  this  do  count.  It  is  often 
just  this  attention  to  little  things,  to  small  details, 
that  marks  the  difference  between  amateur  and 
professional  productions. 

Rehearsals  should  be  compassed  within  a  month. 
A  longer  time  is  apt  to  dull  the  first  sharp  edge  of 
interest  and  lessen  enthusiasm.  A  month's  time 
is  here  taken  to  mean  diHgent,  not  sporadic, 
rehearsing. 

[170] 


OUTDOOR  PAGEANTS  AND  PLAYS 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  outdoor  play 
needs  broader,  more  simple  effects  than  does  the 
indoor  stage.  Gestures  and  tones  that  would  be 
exaggerations  indoors  are  exactly  right  out  of 
doors.  Big,  sweeping,  rhythmic  effects  should  be 
striven  for,  especially  in  the  dances.  The  greater 
scope  and  freedom  for  them  the  better. 

On  the  day  of  performance  the  orchestra  must 
be  placed  where  it  will  not  mar  the  spectators' 
view  of  the  stage,  though  it  is  essential  that  the 
orchestra-leader  should  have  the  stage  in  view. 
At  the  right  or  left  of  the  stage  is  a  good  place  for 
it.  Unless  the  orchestra  chairs  are  in  the  shade  a 
background  and  roof  of  green  boughs  (the  forest 
screen  again)  should  be  placed  for  them.  If  the 
orchestra  is  small  —  that  is,  if  it  consists  of  a 
piano  and  a  few  stringed  instruments,  an  excellent 
scheme  is  to  have  the  piano  put  on  a  big  truck 
— about  the  size  of  a  furniture  truck — and  use  this 
truck  as  an  orchestra  platform,  with  Hght  chairs 
for  the  players.  The  same  use  can  also  be  made 
of  a  wagon  in  country  districts.  Drape  the  truck 
with  dark-green  or  gaily  striped  bunting.  In  this 
way  a  piano  does  not  have  to  be  moved  up  and 
down,  and  if  more  than  one  performance  of  the  play 
is  given  this  orchestra  truck  can  easily  be  driven 
to  and  from  the  grounds.  This  is  a  labor-saving 
device  that  has  often  been  used  with  great  success. 

1 171] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

The  director  of  the  orchestra  and  the  director 
of  the  dances  should  have  a  series  of  thoroughly 
understood  silent  cues  that  will  signal  when  the 
dance  music  is  to  begin.  It  may  be  the  waving  of  a 
dancer's  scarf  as  she  steps  forward  or  the  mere  en- 
trance of  a  character  to  the  edge  of  the  stage,  but, 
whatever  it  is,  it  must  be  clearly  agreed  upon  and 
rehearsed  beforehand,  and  it  must  not  be  too  ob- 
vious to  the  audience. 

A  word  should  be  said  here  about  the  lighting  of 
an  outdoor  drama  given  in  the  evening.  Night, 
with  its  mysterious  gleams  and  shadows,  with  its 
brightly  lighted  spaces  and  spaces  blotted  with 
darkness,  lends  added  enchantment  to  any  play. 
Silvery  light  and  black  velvety  shadows  have  a 
way  of  mitigating  defects  and  softening  crudities. 
The  reason  why  it  is  easy  to  give  an  outdoor  play 
near  the  house  of  some  country  estate  or  club  is 
that  electric  wires  can  easily  and  inexpensively  be 
extended  and  a  small  switchboard  set  up  near  the 
stage.  This  is  the  ideal  way  of  lighting  the  out- 
door stage.  Rude  logs  placed  along  the  front  of 
the  stage  where  the  footlights  would  naturally  be, 
with  electric  lights  fastened  to  them,  make  a  good 
set  of  outdoor  foothghts,  throwing  a  strong  gleam 
on  the  stage  and  yet  having  their  mechanics  hid- 
den from  the  audience.  Still  another  scheme  of 
lighting  was  tried  in  the  Pageant  of  Schenectady. 
[172] 


OUTDOOR  PAGEANTS  AND  PLAYS 

The  pageant  stage  had  a  background  of  woods  and 
a  clear  foreground.  Six  tall,  slender  poles  with 
clusters  of  lights  crowning  them  were  placed  where 
footlights  would  usually  be.  The  poles,  not  being 
as  large  as  the  usual  pillar,  and  being  quite  far 
apart,  did  not  interfere  with  a  view  of  the  stage, 
and  yet  gave  the  audience  light  enough  by  which 
to  find  their  seats.  Thus  the  light,  coming  from 
above,  shed  a  faint  white  glow  like  moonlight 
across  the  stage.  Other  lighting  was  done  from 
the  back  by  means  of  globes  of  light,  placed  at 
right  and  left,  facing  toward  background,  and  so 
arranged  that  they  sent  a  point  of  light  back  into 
the  forest.  On  each  side  of  this  point  of  light  was 
entire  darkness  from  which  the  characters  appeared 
or  disappeared.  Farther  back  in  the  wood,  where 
their  hghts  could  not  be  seen,  were  the  tent 
dressing-rooms.  Between  dressing-rooms  and  the 
place  where  the  characters  made  their  entrance 
was  a  narrow  strip  of  less-lighted  ground  that 
seemed  dark  to  the  audience  but  was  perfectly 
clear  to  the  players.  Care  was  taken  that  there 
were  no  loiterers  fringing  the  path  of  light.  The 
place  was  for  the  time  being  a  primeval  forest, 
moonlit  and  flecked  with  shadow,  while  in  the 
palely  lighted  foreground  gleamed  the  crimson  of 
the  camp-fire. 
Where  electric  lighting  cannot  be  had  two  en- 
[173] 


PLAYS  OF  THE  PIONEERS 

gine  headlights  set  facing  the  stage  have  been 
made  to  do  excellent  service.  Failing  even  these, 
the  aforementioned  logs,  placed  where  the  foot- 
lights are  to  be,  and  candles  set  in  them,  with 
sockets  and  glass  shades,  may  be  made  to  do  in- 
stead of  electric  lights.  Lamps  are  apt  to  smoke 
and  smell,  and  lanterns  are  too  dim,  hence  the  sug- 
gestion of  candles.  The  log  should  be  thoroughly 
dampened  for  fear  of  any  accident  resulting  from 
breeze  and  flame. 

In  arranging  the  committee  side  of  the  play 
have  a  chairman  of  costumes,  of  properties,  of 
music,  of  the  outdoor  stage,  and  of  printing — 
which  should  include  the  printing  of  programs. 
There  should  also  be  a  secretary  and  treasurer. 

The  costumes  should,  if  possible,  be  mostly 
home-made.  They  will  have  better  line  and  color 
than  those  obtained  at  a  costumer^s.  The  initial 
expense  will  not  be  very  much  greater — may  even 
be  very  much  less.  Moreover,  the  costumes  will 
remain  the  property  of  their  owners,  or  the  com- 
munity at  large,  and  not  one  but  many  plays  may 
be  given  with  them.  The  costumes  from  all 
pageants  and  plays  should  be  saved  for  future 
efforts.  Indeed  one  of  the  best  things  in  connec- 
tion with  the  nation-wide  renaissance  of  the 
pageant,  masque,  and  play  is  the  fact  that  in  all 
such  performances  the  people  of  the  community 
[174I 


OUTDOOR  PAGEANTS  AND  PLAYS 

are  taking  some  of  the  arts  of  the  theater  into 
their  own  hands.  The  players,  dancers,  musi- 
cians, and  costume  artists  are  recruited  from  the 
community  just  as  they  were  in  the  glowing 
medieval  days  of  the  guild  workers.  And,  let  us 
hope,  with  the  same  results ! 


THE   END 


,    ,  r     «,  ^'*^ch  borrowed. 
Return  to  desk  from  v 
'^'^'^                        ,     ast  date  stamped  below. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  tb^ 


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:  12  1956 


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?6o 

'    UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


